Law & Order: Special Victims Unit Echoes
by SMR723
Summary: COMPLETED. Casefile Benson and Stabler are called in to investigate an alleged rape at a local college. The secrets they uncover lead to a deadly standoff. Will echoes of the past destroy the futures of those caught in the crossfire?
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in the 2005-2006 season. It has been rated M for mature subject matter since the detectives are investigating a same sex sexual assault and they uncover child sexual abuse along the way.

Many thanks to my wonderful betas, Cathy and Cheri, for their feedback, patience and friendship throughout the writing process. I couldn't have done it without their love and support.

Any and all comments, critiques and other feedback would be gratefully accepted and much appreciated.

**Law & Order: SVU**

**Echoes**

**Teaser**

Lisa Carlson sat at her desk in the reception area of the Dean of Students' office trying to ignore the sound of the Dean's voice even though it was raised loud enough to penetrate the two and a half inch thick solid wood door that guarded his inner sanctum. The words weren't distinguishable, but the sound was enough to rattle her, since she had never in the four years she had worked for him heard Henry Jacobs' voice raised so loudly in anger.

The office had been buzzing since she'd arrived this morning, with a steady stream of phone calls between the Dean and other administrators of the college. She'd been given a list of students to call in for immediate interviews with the Dean, and over a half dozen unhappy looking young men had already passed through the office, with several more still expected even though it was almost 4 p.m. Lisa sighed heavily, steeling herself for a late night, as the outer office door opened and another student entered the reception area.

"Hi. I'm Justin Graves, the young man said nervously. "I got a message the Dean wants to see me."

"He's still with his previous appointment. Please have a seat," Lisa responded in her most professional voice as she surveyed the young man. He was about 5'5", thin and slight, with reddish blond hair and a generous sprinkle of freckles across his boy-next-door face.

"Do you have any idea what this is about?" the young man asked, a tremor of anxiety making his voice go slightly higher.

"The Dean will have to discuss that with you," Lisa said evenly, masking the irritation she felt that, although she would have said that to the student anyway, this time she really didn't know what was going on. She had heard bits and pieces of conversations about a video and assumed one of the fraternities had held a wild party that had gotten out of hand - most likely involving drugs and alcohol - but she didn't know for sure.

"Who's with him now?" the young man asked uneasily.

Lisa's eyes grew colder as she looked Justin Graves directly in the eyes. "That's none of your business," she said sternly.

Just then the Dean's voice boomed out again and his words were less muffled this time. "God dammit, David, how could you get involved in . . . . Thank God your parents . . . ."

The Dean's voice faded and the rest of the words were indistinguishable, but Lisa saw Justin's eyes go wide in shock. Before she could even rise from her seat, he was at the door to the Dean's inner office and through it. Lisa raced after him, but it was too late. She arrived at the door, an apology on her lips, but froze at the sight that met her eyes.

Justin Graves was on his knees in front of the chair David Gallagher was slumped in with his arms thrown around the other man. David's eyes had an unfocused, shell-shocked look to them. There was a muted television on in the corner and Lisa's eyes were drawn to the naked men engaged in sex acts playing across the screen. Justin and David were in the center of the action.

"Lisa," Dean Jacobs' stern voice broke through the shock that held her.

"I . . . I'm sorry, sir," she stammered unsteadily. "He bolted for the door before I could stop him."

"It's all right. It's not your fault," Jacobs said in a calmer voice. "Please step out - and I know I don't have to tell you you're not to discuss anything you've seen - with anyone."

"Of course not, sir," she said in a slightly offended tone as she withdrew.

Jacobs watched the door close behind her and quickly moved to turn the lock so there would be no further interruptions.

"Since you felt the need to burst in like that, Justin, what do you have to say for yourself?" the Dean asked ominously. "Before the two of you are expelled!"

Justin continued to hold David, who remained silent and unmoving in his arms, his hands clasped together in his lap just as they had been since Justin first reached him.

Swallowing the lump in his throat that was threatening to choke him, Justin looked up at the Dean, determination settling into his face. "I know you're going to expel me no matter what, but you can't do that to him. It wasn't his fault. He didn't know what he was doing."

"It certainly looks like he knows what he's doing," the Dean retorted angrily, as he indicated the images playing across the tv screen.

Justin closed his eyes for a minute and held David tighter, hoping he'd understand what he was about to do. "You don't understand. I invited him to come to the party, but he wasn't interested. So I invited him to come to my room instead and look at some stuff I'd picked up on a dig last summer. You know how much he loves all that archaeological shit. I gave him a beer while we were sitting and talking - I . . . I'd spiked it with a roofie. He's so intense - studying all the time. I knew if he just relaxed a little, he'd come to the party and have a good time. No harm, no foul. And he did. But you can't expel him for it. It wasn't his fault."

Jacobs could feel the color draining from his face as he listened to Justin's confession. _Oh God, what have I done_, he thought in horror as he looked at David's vacant eyes staring at the tv screen as Justin held him. Quickly he went to the tv and hit the off switch.

As he turned back toward the two young men, he heard David's soft, emotionless voice. "Can I go home now?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**

Detectives Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson strode quickly through the corridors of the Student Services Building of Elmhurst College following the agitated young man who had met them outside the building. They stopped outside a heavy wooden door marked 'Conference Room,' while the young man gave a brisk knock, then quickly turned the knob and led them into the room. There were over a half dozen people ranged around the conference table, their faces set in varying degrees of worry and distress. A tall, thin, woman with graying hair pulled back into a severe bun who appeared to be in her early fifties rose instantly from her seat at the head of the table.

"These are the police detectives," the young man escorting them said to the room at large.

The level of distress in the room notched up perceptibly at the announcement, but the woman stepped forward with her hand extended and attempted a smile. "Thank you for coming so quickly, Detectives. I'm afraid we're quite out of our league with this situation. I'm Delores Pennicott, President of Elmhurst. I greatly appreciate your assistance."

"Detective Stabler," the male detective said as he shook her hand. "And this is my partner Detective Benson. We were told you needed to speak with someone from the Special Victims Unit right away, but we weren't given any details."

"Yes. I apologize for that. It's all rather . . . awkward," Pennicott responded as she shook Benson's hand in turn. "Please have a seat and we'll explain what we know. I'm afraid we're not even certain a 'crime' has been committed, so we felt it best to leave that determination in your hands."

"Of course a crime has been committed, Delores!" a clearly agitated man in his forties with dark hair and piercing brown eyes exploded.

"Henry, please," Pennicott pleaded. "Let's stop arguing about this and let the detectives do their job.

"I apologize again," Pennicott directed to Stabler and Benson. "I'm afraid this situation has unnerved us all. We've never had anything like this happen before in the 120 year history of this institution. It's appalling. Please sit," she added, pointing to the two empty chairs to her right, "while I introduce you to the rest of the group."

Benson and Stabler exchanged quick quizzical glances as they took their seats, then followed the woman's pointing finger as she made the introductions.

"The gentleman to your right is Henry Jacobs, our Dean of Students; next is Richard Wilkins, Security Director; Janet Cantrell, Director of the Student Counselling Center; Trudy Jenkins, Director of Public Relations; Stanley Henderson, Provost, and Lily Harkins, College Counsel." The detectives acknowledged each introduction with a quick nod of the head.

"Since Dean Jacobs has been handling our internal investigation so far, perhaps it's best if he begins."

Lines of shock and fatigue were clearly ingrained on the dark-haired man's face as he leaned slightly forward in his chair and placed his clasped hands on the table in front of him. "Two days ago I overheard a conversation among some students in the main cafeteria on campus about a sex video that's being passed around that features some of our students. I eventually got my hands on a copy and discovered through further investigation that the video was made at an off-campus party last Friday that ended in . . . well, I guess the best way to describe it is an orgy."

Benson and Stabler kept their professional faces on as they watched the faces of those around them shift between distress and disgust.

"After some more digging, I found out the video wasn't supposed to be made public, but someone got hold of it and made copies that they started passing around."

"For free or for a price?" Benson asked.

The Dean stared at her a moment, startled by the question. "For free as far as I know. Although they'd probably make a pretty penny selling the damn thing," he added in disgust. "What difference does it make?"

"Dr. Pennicott said you weren't sure if a crime has been committed. Distribution or sale of pornography, especially if it features minors or is shown to or sold to minors, can be a crime," Benson explained.

"Do we have any minors involved in this?" Stabler interjected.

"Not that I'm aware of," the Dean said stiffly. "Everyone I've interviewed so far is over 18."

"So we're talking consenting adults here?" Benson asked.

"We believed so until this afternoon," Jacobs said, dropping his eyes in embarrassment.

Stabler shifted in his seat. "So this is a rape."

Pennicott's face drained of color and she pressed her fingers against the side of her forehead as she slumped in her chair. "Rape? Dear Lord! We . . . we really can't be certain of that yet, can we? I mean, I know we called you in because of your expertise in this area, but you've only just gotten here. How can you be certain already?"

"We haven't had a rape on this campus in years," Provost Henderson blustered. "It's simply unheard of. And it's a boy for god's sake. Do you really classify it as rape if it's a boy?"

As Benson and Stabler aimed disbelieving stares at Henderson, Wilkins intervened. "Of course it's rape even if it's a boy, Stanley. The only relevant factor in determining rape is whether it was consensual or non-consensual."

"Not necessarily . . . ," Benson began, but Stabler cut her off quickly, not wanting the discussion to get any further off track.

"Why don't you just show us the video and let us see for ourselves what's on it, then we can discuss the semantics."

"Very well," Pennicott said primly. "But you'll have to excuse me. I can't bring myself to watch that . . . that filth again. It's much too . . . appalling. Henry, call me on my private line when you're ready for me to come back."

"Same here," Henderson said bruskly, quickly rising from his seat and bolting out of the room.

The others remained seated as Jacobs rose unsteadily to his feet and opened the doors of a tall armoire set in the corner of the room. A 42" color television was secreted behind the doors.

"Nice setup," Stabler muttered under his breath.

A blush slid up Trudy Jenkins' face as she said a bit defensively, "Those of us who aren't able to attend sometimes use this room to watch our teams' televised games."

"Of course," Benson replied pleasantly as she exchanged a knowing glance with her partner.

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of the television coming to life. A moment later, Jacobs had inserted a dvd into the player hooked up to the unit and images began playing silently across the big screen.

"It's not muted," Jacobs explained. "There is no audio track. Either there wasn't one on the original or whoever made the copies didn't get it. I suppose we should be grateful for small favors," the man added with disgust. "Watching the thing is bad enough without having to hear it too."

Stabler had been sitting back in his chair but, as he nodded acknowledgment of the man's words, he leaned forward intently, settling his chin on the back of his hands which were clasped in front of him, his elbows braced on the solid mahogany of the conference table. His notebook lay open on the table in front of him with a pen beside it if needed, but at this point he was more interested in studying the demeanor of the players in this sordid drama.

Benson also leaned forward, but kept her hands free to write notes in the memo pad sitting on the table in front of her.

Cop face - that look of total blankness that gave nothing away - was one of the first tricks a successful detective had to learn, but even the best sometimes had difficulty maintaining it. Stabler felt his mouth settle into a grim line of fury as he watched the video and noted out of the corner of his eye the set line of his partner's jaw.

Earlier Jacobs had said the party ended in an 'orgy', which Stabler certainly couldn't argue with. Categorizing what came before as a party, that was another story. He watched as a medium built young man with reddish blond hair led a taller -- probably close to 6 feet, Stabler estimated -- brown haired man into the room. The redhead didn't look like he could be 18 and Stabler made a mental note to confirm his age with the Dean. The other man looked several years older. Over a dozen men, who looked to be in the 19-23 year old range, stood in a receiving line. The redhead stopped at each man in the line in turn to introduce the brown haired man to him.

"You said this was a party. It looks more like some kind of initiation to me," Stabler said, gazing speculatively at the Dean.

"I suppose that's a better word for it," the man responded stiffly.

"Is this some kind of club?" Benson picked up the thread of her partner's thought.

The Dean's frown deepened and a look of disgust settled on his face. "From what I've been told, the instigators are billing it as 'a fraternity in the true greek tradition'."

"So it's basically a homosexual sex club," Stabler said evenly, his cold, steady gaze never leaving the other man's face, so it would have been impossible for him to miss the wince.

"Basically," the man responded through clenched teeth.

"How long has this club been in operation?" Benson pressed.

The man winced again before muttering, "three or four years."

"Three or four years!" Trudy Jenkins shrieked. "Nobody told me that! My god, if that gets out this is going to be a p.r. nightmare! No self-respecting parent will want to send their child to this school!"

"Really, Trudy, that's the last thing we should be worried about right now." Stabler and Benson turned their assessing gazes to Janet Cantrell, who had been silent until that moment. "That boy has been through a terrible ordeal. His well-being should be our first concern."

Benson and Stabler followed her eyes back to the screen. The two young men had reached the end of the receiving line. All the men began removing their clothing. The redhead led the brown haired man to a hastily constructed dais in the middle of the room that had what looked like a cheap bed or cot in the center of it and helped him get to his knees on it.

Stabler watched the redhead and the brown haired man intently. Something about their interactions and the way the taller man moved set off an alarm in his head. He turned a questioning gaze to his partner who nodded acknowledgment that she saw it too.

They watched for a few more minutes in silence before Benson turned her head from the screen and blurted out, "Jesus. How many of them do it?"

"Sodomize him? All of them." Wilkins interjected coldly.

Stabler swallowed his fury and allowed his cop face to freeze back into place. There was a job to be done here, no matter how much it disgusted him to have to be the one to do it. "Does he want to file a complaint against the other men? Is that why you called us."

Another hesitation and swift, worried glances were exchanged among the university personnel. "Maybe you should watch the rest of it first, then we can call President Pennicott back. I don't think we should continue these discussions without her."

"Then call her back now," Benson said stiffly. "We've seen enough."

"No, I'm afraid you haven't," Jacobs responded, the air seeming to deflate from him as he spoke and a world-weary expression covering his face. "David says he has very little memory of what happened that night and, despite what's on the video, he absolutely refuses to press charges of any kind. All he keeps saying is that he wants to go home."

"Have you called his parents yet?" Stabler snapped.

"There are no parents to call," Janet Cantrell interjected. "David's parents died when he was 8 years old. He has no family left. He had foster parents, but they died in a car accident a few years ago."

"How long is the video," Stabler barked irritably.

"About an hour and a half total," Jacobs replied.

"Let's compromise," Benson intervened, sensing her partner was close to jumping the Dean and throttling him. "Put it on fast forward and we'll tell you to stop if there's something we need to look at closer. In the meantime, call Dr. Pennicott and tell her if she's not back here in ten minutes, we're going on without her."

"Very well," Jacobs said stiffly as he grabbed the remote and hit the fast forward button, then turned and nodded to Dr. Cantrell indicating she should make the call to the President.

"In the meantime, start giving me names," Benson said. "Who is the one being sodomized?"

"His name is David, David Gallagher," the Dean responded wearily, rubbing a hand distractedly across his temple as if attempting to push back a headache. "The redhead is Justin Graves."

"How old is Justin? He doesn't look 18 to me," Stabler cut in.

"19. He'll be 20 next month. David turned 21 last month."

They watched quietly for a few minutes, the silence broken only by the Dean's occasional announcement of the name and age of the latest man to appear on the screen. In another situation the images flying across the screen at superspeed might have seemed humorous, but no one in the room was smiling.

"Stop," Stabler barked, leaning forward to examine the frozen image more closely. "Back it up about a minute and play it at normal speed."

Once the taller man, the one the Dean had called David, had been positioned on the cot, the redhead, Justin, had gone first, then sat down beside him, talking to him and occasionally kissing him as the other men took their turns. The detective noted that Graves sat back slightly, causing Gallagher's face to be turned completely from the main room and the camera whenever his attention was focused on the redhead. And Justin made sure the other man's attention stayed focused on him -- continuously laughing and gesturing wildly as though the two of them were having the time of their lives. Stabler found his attention continually pulled from his attempt to observe Gallagher's reactions to the assault by the effusive redhead's antics.

Stabler watched closely as Justin leaned in attentively, listening to something the other was saying. He said something back and David turned his head away, allowing his face to be fully exposed to the camera for a few seconds -- just long enough to allow those watching to see the pain and confusion in his eyes.

The redhead said something else that drew the other man's attention back to him. Justin took a long swig from a bottle of what looked like vodka and, without swallowing, leaned over and kissed David again. There was a second when it looked like Gallagher was going to resist the kiss, then he reacted to the taste of the alcohol on the other's lips and started kissing him back.

"Did you see that?" Benson hissed to her partner.

"Yeah, I saw it. He was telling the redhead he wanted it to stop, but Graves just gave him something to numb the pain instead."

"And you people have some question as to whether this was rape?" Benson snarled.

There was guilty silence from around the room.

"Go back to fast forward," Stabler said with barely disguised fury.

As the line of men continued to take their turns, there were several more of the alcohol-tainted kisses. Finally the last man, a tall, muscular blond, moved into position. He and the redhead exchanged a few words, then Justin leaned over and said something to David before giving him another deep, passionate kiss before standing up to move in front of him.

Even with the video on fast forward, this 'grand finale' seemed interminable to Stabler. Although he couldn't see Gallagher's face now, he was haunted by the expression of pain and fear he had seen on it earlier. And when the men finally finished, he felt sick to his stomach seeing the self-satisfied smiles on their faces as they laughed and joked with each other while Graves slid to his knees in front of David, then kissed him deeply while using his hands to guide the other's body down onto the cot, making sure he laid on his side not on his back.

Justin continued to sit beside Gallagher, conveniently positioned to block his face from the camera, while he talked to him, caressed him and occasionally leaned over to kiss him until another tall, blond man, this one with a more athletic than muscular build, came over and began talking intently to the redhead.

Slowly the room around them emptied until only the three in the center of the videosceen were left. The blond walked away for a moment then came back with a small box that might have been a first aid kit which he waved excitedly in the air as he continued talking heatedly to the redhead. Graves had been arguing back but finally nodded his head reluctantly, leaned over to give Gallagher one last lingering kiss, then disappeared from view. A second later the video ended.

"Appalling is an understatement," Pennicott's shaky voice came from the doorway.

Benson and Stabler looked at her in surprise, having been so intent on what was happening on the screen they had not even heard the door open.

"You said he refuses to press charges," Stabler said. "Do you know why?"

"David's had a very difficult life," Pennicott answered evasively. "It's possible he's afraid of what will happen if this becomes public."

"He says he doesn't remember what happened," Jacobs added. "And I don't think he wants to remember."

"Why doesn't he remember? Was he drinking heavily or taking drugs before the party?" Stabler pressed, his steel blue eyes piercing the man.

Another awkward silence with more troubled glances exchanged among the administrators.

"Justin -- the redhead -- confessed to me earlier that David didn't want to go to the party, so he slipped him a roofie to help him relax."

Benson gave a shocked, "What?" as Stabler let out a bark of incredulous laughter.

"You people are something else," Stabler added with disgust.

"We're all in shock over this situation, Detective," Pennicott said defensively. "Perhaps we're not handling it as well as we could be, but that's why we called you in. You have experience in these matters. Please tell us what we're supposed to do."

"How many of the men involved have you interviewed?" Benson directed to the Dean.

"Including David and Justin, nine. After Justin's confession, I had him taken to a private conference room. Two of our security officers are stationed outside the door so he doesn't try to leave before you can talk to him. I've prepared a summary of the interviews I've conducted so far for you," he added as he handed copies of the document to the detectives."

"Where's the victim, David Gallagher?" Stabler asked as he scanned the first page of the document.

Jacobs cast a troubled gaze at Dr. Cantrell before responding. "He kept saying he wanted to go home, but Janet was concerned about leaving him alone after all this, so he's asleep on the sofa in my office. My secretary is sitting with him."

"You think he might be suicidal?" Benson asked.

"It's hard to say," Cantrell responded. "Henry called and asked me to come over as soon as Justin told him what really happened. David was showing signs of shock and disassociation. When we told him he needed to talk to the police, he got very upset. He kept saying he was tired and wanted to go home and go to sleep.

"I told him he couldn't go home yet, but he could sleep on the sofa in Henry's office if he was tired. He finally agreed to that and let me settle him on the sofa and tuck a blanket around him. He was very disoriented and seemed to be afraid to go to sleep, but as soon as we finally got him to close his eyes, he drifted right off."

"I told my secretary to call me immediately if he woke up or started having nightmares," Jacobs added. "So far everything seems to be fine."

"I checked on him on my way back here," Pennicott said softly. "Lisa said he's been asleep the entire time. But she said she was concerned because he's hardly moved at all. She actually got up twice to make sure he was still breathing."

"You'll see that sometimes with abused children," Cantrell responded automatically. "They're so well programmed not to draw any attention to themselves that the subconscious even keeps them from moving in their sleep."

"There's a history of abuse?" Benson asked.

Another uncomfortable silence, this one longer. Finally Pennicott broke it. "When David's parents died, there was no family to take him in. He was placed in foster care. The family he was placed with was new in the system. No one realized the husband was a pedophile until it was too late."

"How long?" Stabler asked.

"That poor child," Pennicott's voice broke on the last word. "It was a couple of months before anyone realized what was happening, but that horrible man realized they were on to him and were getting ready to take the boy from him. So he ran and took David with him, leaving his wife behind. David was 8 years old when he disappeared. They didn't find him again until he was 13."

"I remember hearing about that case," Stabler said heavily. "He was abandoned in the food court of a mall somewhere out west. The police got an anonymous call telling them where they could find him."

"That's right," Pennicott said. "If I remember correctly it was Phoenix, Arizona."

"I thought you told us his foster parents died in a car accident," Benson cut in angrily.

"Not those foster parents," the woman responded defensively. "As far as I know, that awful man is still out there somewhere; I don't believe he was ever caught. His wife committed suicide shortly after he ran off with David. The foster parents who died in the car accident are the ones David was placed with when the Phoenix police sent him back here -- the Spencers. I spoke with them several times when they brought him to campus for visits over the years -- they were hoping to remind him of the happy times he'd spent here with his parents. They were such good and caring people. They mentioned several times that they were hoping to eventually be allowed to adopt David, and I believe formal adoption proceedings were underway when they died."

"So where are their relatives? Why aren't they here?" Stabler asked.

"Evidently it wasn't a very close-knit family and since the adoption was never finalized, none of them were willing to take on the responsibility of a child with such a troubled past."

"Unbelievable!" Benson spat out with disgust.

"We're still going to need to speak with him," Stabler said. "And with Justin."

"Can you talk to David here?" Cantrell asked. "I'm very concerned about his state of mind. If we force him to go to the police station, it may push him over the edge."

"We'll see what we can do about that," Stabler said. "But we're definitely taking Justin downtown. Let's see how he feels about being caged up for awhile."

Benson pulled out her phone and called for backup to take Graves in. "Why don't we take care of the preliminaries with Justin now so we have him ready when Munch and Fin get here?" she suggested to her partner, who nodded assent.

Pennicott led the two detectives down the hall and around a corner, with Security Director Wilkins, Dean Jacobs and Dr. Cantrell trailing along behind, to a smaller conference room. Two uniformed security officers stood in front of the door.

"Has he caused any trouble?" Wilkins asked one of the officers.

"No sir. A little while ago he asked how much longer it would be, but other than that he's been quiet."

"Very well. These are the police detectives who'll be interviewing him. Give them anything they need. I'm heading outside to meet their backup."

"Yes, sir," the man responded.

"I think one of us should stay with them, Delores," Jacobs said to the president. "It may be helpful in our internal disciplinary process to hear what Justin has to say."

"Then it probably should be you, Henry," Pennicott said wearily. "You've handled the investigation from the beginning. Do you have any objections to that?" she asked the detectives.

After shooting a quick questioning glance at her partner, Benson responded, "As long as he doesn't interfere in any way or attempt to ask any questions of his own, it's fine with us."

"I'd like to stay, too," Dr. Cantrell cut in. "Listening to what he has to say may assist me in helping David deal with what's happened to him."

The detectives gave each other another quick look, then Benson nodded and they turned toward the door. Wilkins nodded to one of the guards to indicate he should unlock and open it. The detectives quickly strode inside and stopped short at the sight that met their eyes.

Justin Graves was sitting at the conference table with his head in his hands. He had clearly been crying. When he heard the door open, he lifted his head to stare at them, his face a mask of misery. "What's happening? Where's David? Is he okay? What have you done to him? You've got to let me see him. Please! He needs me!"

Stabler let his face settle into the cold mask of cop face and stepped forward. "Justin Graves, you're under arrest for sexual assault and possession and distribution of drugs in connection with a felony. Stand up and put your hands behind your back so I can cuff you. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law . . . ."

Justin's face drained of color as Stabler approached him with the handcuffs and continued giving him his Miranda rights. "No! You can't do that! This is all a big misunderstanding. You can't arrest me. I didn't do anything wrong!"

"You don't see anything wrong with giving someone drugs so he won't fight back while fourteen men rape him?" Benson snapped.

"It . . . it wasn't like that," Justin stammered. "David understands. I know he does. He's into that kind of stuff. He just needed to relax a little. He had a good time. Just ask him."

"So you admit you gave him drugs," Stabler snarled as he snapped the cuffs on.

"I . . . I'm not saying anything else until I have a lawyer present," Graves stammered, finally realizing how deep a pit of trouble he'd dug for himself.

"Fine. You can call from the station house. There'll be somebody by in a few minutes to haul your sorry ass downtown," Stabler growled as he patted the redhead down then shoved him roughly back into the chair, before turning and stalking out of the room.

* * *

"Elliot, you need to calm down," Benson said softly to her partner as they followed Jacobs and Cantrell down the hall toward the Dean's office.

"I know," Stabler said tersely. "I just look at these kids and see my own kids and their friends . . . how easily it could be any one of them. That Justin looks so normal, redhead with freckles -- just like the kid next door."

They stopped speaking as they came to a door marked 'Dean of Students' in gold letters. Stabler took a deep, calming breath and braced himself as Jacobs opened the door and they filed into the room.

Directly across from the door in front of a large window was a spacious mahogany desk with a leather desk chair behind it and two coordinating guest chairs facing it. To the right was a comfortable sitting area featuring a large sofa and two matching wing chairs with a coffee table separating them. A blond woman in her early thirties wearing wire rimmed glasses was sitting in one of the wing chairs reading a book. An armoire slightly smaller than the one in the conference room stood in the corner, closed doors concealing its contents.

_Lots of comfortable places around here to watch the teams' games_, Stabler thought idly as he turned his attention to the figure curled up on the sofa. He was struck by how small and frail the young man looked compared to the tall, athletic figure he had seen on the television screen. Gallagher's eyes were closed and, as he followed the line of the body, Stabler realized the young man's legs were pulled up against his chest with his arms wrapped around them in the fetal position under the lightweight blanket featuring the school's crest that had been tucked around him.

"Dr. Jacobs?" the young woman asked tentatively.

"It's all right, Lisa," the older man soothed. "These are the police detectives. They need to speak to David for a few minutes. Has he woken up at all?"

"No, sir. He started to stir about an hour ago, so I went over and tucked the blanket tighter around him and told him everything was all right; he settled right back down."

"That was good of you. He needs rest more than anything right now," Jacobs said.

"What else can I do?"

"Nothing for the moment, Lisa. I appreciate you staying this long. I didn't realize it's almost 8:00. You should go home and try to get some sleep. We'll need to start early tomorrow."

"Very well, sir. If you're sure you don't need me?" the young woman said doubtfully. "I don't think I'll be getting much sleep tonight."

"I'm Detective Benson," Olivia broke in. "And this is my partner Detective Stabler. We may need to speak with you at some point, Ms. . . . ?"

"I'm so sorry. Please excuse my manners," Jacobs said wearily. "This is my assistant, Lisa Carlson. Of course you're to help the detectives any way you can, Lisa. Give them your full cooperation . . . anything they need."

"Do you need me to stay now?" the young woman asked, casting a concerned glance at the young man on the sofa.

"I think our questions for you can wait til morning, Ms. Carlson," Stabler said, directing a reassuring smile at her. "Don't worry. We don't intend to do anything to harm him. We just want to talk, hear his version of what happened."

"Okay," the woman said, forcing a smile back at him. "For what it's worth, he's a good kid, Detective. One of the nicest I've met in all the time I've worked here. Always polite, gracious, very sweet. I can't believe he's involved in something like this."

The Dean escorted her out of the room as Benson and Stabler took the empty wing chairs and pulled them closer to the sofa. Dr. Cantrell started to drag one of the guest chairs from in front of the Dean's desk, but Stabler took it from her, moving it closer to the sofa, but not as close as the detectives' chairs. David would have the reassurance of seeing that she was there, but it would be clear she was an observer, not a participant, in their discussion.

"David," Benson said softly, leaning over to gently shake the young man's arm. His eyes fluttered open for a moment, then closed again, so she repeated his name and the movement a little more forcefully.

Slowly the man's eyes blinked open. A brilliant blue slightly cloudy with sleep, they peered at Benson in confusion then turned to Stabler. He stared intently at the detective for a moment, then a soft, tentative smile crossed his lips. "Kristian, is it really you? You finally came back."

Benson and Stabler exchanged perplexed glances before Stabler leaned forward slightly to give the confused young man a reassuring smile. "David, my name isn't Kristian, it's Elliott. Elliott Stabler. I'm a police detective from the Special Victims Unit. This is my partner, Olivia Benson. We need to talk to you about the party, the party on the video."

The smile faded from Gallagher's face and fear filled his crystal blue eyes, turning them dark and haunted. "I . . . I don't remember the party. I don't remember anything about it," he stammered, struggling to sit up as he clutched the blanket against him.

"It's all right, David," Benson said in a gentle, comforting tone. "You're not in any trouble. Nothing is going to happen to you. We just want to know what happened."

But Gallagher only huddled deeper into the corner of the sofa, appearing more like a terrified child than a man, as he pulled his legs up against him and clutched the blanket tighter around him. He stared at Benson with undisguised terror, then turned his fear-filled gaze back to Stabler. After several moments of meeting Stabler's steady, reassuring gaze, his body relaxed slightly, but his eyes remained wary.

"It's okay if you don't remember the party itself, David," Stabler said, keeping his voice calm and even. "Do you remember anything that happened earlier that day? It was last Friday."

The boy kept his gaze locked on Stabler's face as he responded hesitantly, "I went to class during the day. I had a couple of papers I needed to work on, so I was going to go to the library that night."

"But you didn't," Stabler prodded gently. "Why not?"

"Justin . . . Justin asked me if I wanted to go to a party, but I told him I had to study and work on the papers."

"Justin's your boyfriend?"

Gallagher looked at him uncomprehendingly. "My . . . my boyfriend? No. He's just a friend from class. We're in the same classics class. Sometimes we talk or hang out with some of the others after class, but nothing like that."

The detectives exchanged startled glances before Stabler continued, "So Justin asked you to go to the party, but you said you had too much work to do."

"Yeah. He laughed and said I work way too hard, that I need to relax more. Then he said if I didn't want to go to the party, I should at least take a break and come over to his room for a little while. He reminded me about some pictures and some fragments he'd been allowed to take from a dig he was on in Mexico last year that he wanted to show me. He'd talked about them before and I really wanted to see them, so I said okay. I'd been spending a lot of time studying so I figured it wouldn't hurt to take a little break."

The young man went silent and looked down in embarrassment. Finally, Stabler pressed carefully, "What happened when you went to his room?"

"He . . . he lives in this big house a couple blocks from campus with a bunch of other guys, so we walked over there. While we were walking, he talked about the dig and all the cool stuff they found. I haven't been on a dig yet myself, so I wanted to hear all about it. When we got to the house, the other guys were still setting up the downstairs for the party, so Justin went down for a minute to say hi and grab us some beers.

"I wasn't planning on drinking because I had so much work to do, but Justin said one wouldn't hurt me and I'd walk it off on the way back to my room anyway. So I started drinking it. When we got to his room, he went right to the closet to get the stuff he wanted to show me. I started feeling really funny, so I sat down on the bed. I told him I didn't feel so good and I might be getting sick so I should probably go home. He told me to lay down on his bed for a little while and if I didn't feel better, he'd get somebody to drive me home. Everything is fuzzy after that. If I really concentrate there are flashes, like when they use those strobe lights at parties, but nothing concrete."

"What's the next thing you do remember?" Stabler prodded.

"I woke up and saw it was morning. I looked around and realized I was still in Justin's room. In his bed. He was asleep next to me. He . . . his arm was laying across my stomach. I got really freaked that I couldn't remember how we'd gotten there like that or what else had happened. I saw my clothes on the floor, so I slipped out of bed, got dressed and left without waking Justin up. I just wanted to get out of there and get back to my own room til I could figure out what had happened."

"David, were you totally naked when you woke up?"

The boy, and he really did look more like a boy now, Stabler thought, looked at him with frightened, beseeching eyes, as though begging not to have to answer the question. At Stabler's continued steady gaze, he finally broke down and murmured, "Yes."

"Was Justin naked too?"

The boy's face totally drained of color and he pulled the blanket tighter against him as he whispered, "Yes."

"When you woke up did any part of your body hurt?" Stabler asked the question as delicately as he could, as though he really were speaking to a child.

The boy looked up at him again with those haunted blue eyes and simply nodded.

"Where did it hurt?"

A tear slid down the boy's face and he started to rock back and forth. "Please, I don't want to talk about this any more. Please don't make me." His voice had gone small and childlike. "Please can I go home now? I don't want to stay here any more."

"I think that's enough for now, Detective," Dr. Cantrell said sternly, as she moved quickly from her chair to comfort the distraught young man. "It's all right, David," she soothed. It's Dr. Cantrell. Everything is going to be all right."

"He needs to go to the hospital," Benson broke in firmly. "It's too late for a rape kit, but he needs to be examined for internal injuries and tested for STDs. And I think you're right that he shouldn't be alone tonight," she added giving the counselor a meaningful look.

David looked up at them, his eyes wide and beseeching. "Please don't make me go again, Kristian," he whimpered looking at Stabler. "I don't want to go. I want to stay with you."

Stabler turned to Cantrell in time to see the shocked look that crossed her face. "Who's Kristian? Why does he keep calling me that?" he asked.

"I'll explain later," the woman replied in a shaky voice as she motioned him to follow her a few steps away. When they'd reached a safe distance, she continued in a hushed voice, "For now, just tell him he needs to go and that you're going with him. As long as he thinks you're Kristian, he'll do whatever you ask. I need to call his psychiatrist and ask her to meet us at the hospital."

Stabler frowned, but turned back to the boy, who was still staring at him with huge, fear-filled eyes, and said in a calm but firm tone, "David, we have to go to the hospital now. It's okay. Olivia and I are going to go with you. We'll be there with you the whole time. You're not going to be alone. Okay?"

"You promise you'll stay," the boy whispered unsteadily.

"I promise."

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2**

Elliot Stabler paced outside the hospital room where their victim was being examined, trying to ignore the frustration and anger steadily building inside him. He'd already finished writing up his notes of this evening's interviews and reviewing the summaries Dean Jacobs had given him. There were so many leads that could be followed, and he desperately wanted to be doing something, anything other than just standing and waiting -- and thinking about all the terrible things that had happened to David Gallagher after the death of his parents.

But Dr. Cantrell had strongly advised that he stay close by in case David needed him, and he couldn't just abandon the terrified young man even though he'd been assured he'd be asleep for awhile longer. He felt bad enough that he'd already used the implicit trust the boy had shown in him to get him to come to the hospital in the first place and then again to get him to agree to be sedated during the exam.

The detective's pace quickened as he remembered the look of absolute terror on David's face when the doctor had walked into the room still pulling on his gloves. He rubbed absently at the sore spot on his left arm where the boy had clutched it in desperation as he'd turned eyes full of pleading and despair to Stabler, begging him silently not to let the doctor touch him. It was only his reassurance that he'd stay there the entire time and wouldn't allow anyone to hurt the boy during the exam that had made David agree to be put to sleep.

Stabler felt another stab of guilt about using Gallagher's trust that way, especially since he'd broken that trust by leaving the room once the boy had fallen asleep, but comforted himself with the knowledge that what he'd done was meant to help, not hurt him.

He sighed heavily and pulled out his cellphone, tempted to break the rule against using it in this part of the hospital, but, after looking at the device longingly for several moments, finally put it back into his pocket, knowing his partner was already outside making the necessary calls that would start the investigative wheels turning. The video had been sent back to headquarters for further review, Justin Graves was sweating in an interview room awaiting their return from the hospital, and a meeting had been set up with ADA Casey Novak first thing the following morning to review what charges could be leveled against the involved students based on what they knew so far. Once they got Novak's input and knew what kind of leverage they had available, interviews would be set up with the other students who appeared in the video. The process was chugging along nicely without his intervention and that left the detective feeling particularly useless.

His thoughts were churning, but they refused to stay on track, instead continuously returning to his own kids. Had he and Kathy done enough to guarantee they'd be taken care of if both of them were to die? They had named guardians in their wills, but was that enough? They had enough family between them that there should be someone to take care of the kids if the worst were to happen. But would they be kept together or raised in separate homes without their siblings to support them? And what about the kids they hung out with? Were he and Kathy being vigilant enough about them, or was there a Justin Graves lying in wait among them, just biding his or her time until the moment when everyone's guard was down?

"Detective Stabler?"

Elliot's mind was jerked back to reality but he took a moment to allow his implacable cop face to settle back into place before turning to greet the intruder who had pulled him out of his dark reverie.

"Yes?" he responded as he did a quick assessment of the woman standing before him - 5'6", mid-fifties, short gray hair, heavy-set, wearing a light blue suit that brought out the blue in her eyes but did little else to accentuate her appearance.

"I'm Dr. Minerva Wilcox. David's psychiatrist. Janet Cantrell gave me a brief update on what's been happening. How is he?"

The woman eyed him speculatively as she spoke, and Stabler tried not to tense up at the intensity of her gaze. "The doctor's with him now. He was pretty upset when we first got here, but he held it together while we were waiting and during the initial testing. But when the doctor came in to do the internal exam, he started to lose it. They had to sedate him to get him through it."

The woman nodded sympathetically. "I wish I could have gotten here sooner. Seeing a familiar face might have helped. You have to understand, Detective, David had a very difficult life even before all of this happened, so doctors, hospitals, even the police, stir up very bad, very painful memories for him. Please don't take it personally."

Stabler allowed a small smile to play across his lips. "There's been nothing for me to take personally. For some reason I'm the only one he seems to be comfortable with."

The woman frowned deeply. "Then what Janet said is true. He really did call you Kristian?"

"Yes, ma'am. And I'd really like to know what that's all about, because from your reaction and hers, I get the feeling it's not a compliment."

Dr. Wilcox frowned and paced in front of him for a moment. "I'm not sure how much I can tell you without violating doctor/patient confidentiality. I need a moment to recall exactly what was in the police reports and what he only told to me."

She continued pacing for a few moments, then finally shook her head and looked at him with obvious frustration. "Right now there's only one thing I can tell you that I'm certain is already in the police reports. Kristian is the man who called the police and told them where they could find David."

"Kristian was his foster father? The one who kidnapped him?"

"No. Most definitely not. Although they shared similar . . . predilections," she added with disdain. "But that's all I can tell you for now, Detective. I'll go through his file tomorrow to see if there's anything else I can add."

Stabler pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to her. "You can reach me on my cell anytime."

"Thank you," she responded, opening her purse and carefully placing the card inside. "How long have you been with the Special Victims Unit, Detective?"

"This is one of those days when I know it's been way too long," Stabler replied wearily as he rubbed his eyes.

She nodded. "Then I imagine you already have a reasonably good understanding of the psychology of abused children. Still, I suggest you look through the police reports yourself. It might give you some insight in dealing with David if you understand what he went through during the years he was missing."

"I'll do that," Stabler said making a mental note to have the files pulled as soon as he returned to the station.

Just then, the doctor exited the exam room and strode over to them. "Can I have a word with you, Detective Stabler?"

"What's wrong, Doc?"

"I'd like to hear this too," Wilcox interjected.

"And you are?"

"Dr. Minerva Wilcox, David's psychiatrist."

"Is his family here yet?"

"From what I understand, Doc, there is no family," Stabler responded. "Isn't that right, Dr. Wilcox?"

"As far as I know, yes. His birth parents had him late in life and he was an only child; neither of the parents had siblings and all of his grandparents were already dead before his parents died. He was placed in foster care for several years, but when his foster parents died in a car accident, David specifically asked not to be placed with another family. He was close enough to legal age that ACS agreed there was no need to appoint another legal guardian."

"More likely they didn't want to take the chance of screwing up again," Stabler said with venom.

Wilcox shrugged her shoulders. "Either way it means he's going to have to face this alone."

"No, it doesn't," the detective said with the first hint of compassion she had heard in his voice since she'd met him. "He's got us."

A small smile crossed her lips. "That's very true, Detective."

The doctor was frowning as they turned their attention back to him. "I'm sorry to hear that. He's given me permission to talk to you about his condition, otherwise that would complicate things considerably."

"Elliott!"

Stabler turned at the sound of his partner's voice and watched her stride quickly down the hallway. "Problem?"

"Our perp's getting antsy. He lawyered up and the lawyer's screaming. The Captain's getting some political pressure so he must be from money. We need to get back to the station soon or Munch and Fin are going to have to take the interview without us."

"Not happening," Stabler commented coldly. "Dr. Freeman was just about to give us an update on David's condition. Doctor, you already know my partner, Detective Olivia Benson." The doctor nodded acknowledgment and Benson returned the nod as Stabler turned to Wilcox, "This is Dr. Minerva Wilcox, David's psychiatrist."

Benson said, "Pleased to meet you," as she reached out to shake the other woman's hand. The psychiatrist returned the handshake and greeting then they all turned expectantly back to the doctor.

"He's resting comfortably for now. We have him on fluids since he's a little dehydrated and the initial blood tests indicated his blood sugar is a bit low. I suspect he hasn't been eating or drinking much the last few days, which isn't surprising in a case like this, since bowel movements would still be painful and probably will be for a few more days. The internal exam showed signs of injury - some from this assault but some that looks to be much older." The doctor looked up at them speculatively, "Are you aware of a history of abuse?"

"Yes," Wilcox said without elaborating.

Freeman frowned at her reticence but continued his report. "There's some bruising and tearing, but significantly less than I would have expected from the type of assault you described -- although it's a bit hard to tell how much worse the injuries were originally since someone was there before me to patch things up."

Stabler's head shot up from the notes he was writing and his eyes pierced the doctor's. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. It looks like someone with more than basic medical knowledge cleaned him up after the incident. Did a pretty good job of it too. As I said, sitting down and bowel movements will be a bit uncomfortable for him for awhile longer, but there doesn't appear to be any serious physical damage and no stitches were required."

"Any semen or other fluids?"

"No, but from what you said it's been almost a week since the assault. Judging from how dry his skin is, I assume he's been bathing a lot, which, again, is not unusual in a case like this. As far as other fluids, although there aren't any traces left, I'd almost guarantee some kind of lubricant was used. There would have been a lot more physical damage otherwise. It almost seems as though whoever did this was making an effort not to hurt him."

Stabler looked up sharply and met the doctor's steady gaze. "Are you saying you don't believe this was rape?"

"Not at all, Detective," Freeman replied solemnly. "I've seen enough rape victims to know lack of injury doesn't imply consensual sex. It just makes the DA's job a little tougher."

Stabler finished jotting the information in his notebook before asking, "How long can you keep him here, Doc?"

Freeman frowned again. "Honestly, there isn't any real reason for me to keep him here now. But since the IV is still in, I could probably justify keeping him till morning or early afternoon to monitor his fluid intake and try and get the sugar level up, especially since you say there's no one at home to keep an eye on him. We also need to get him started on the prophylactic drugs in case he was exposed to HIV or any other STDs. It'll be a few more days before those tests come back, but since we're already a week out, I'd rather not wait any longer."

"We'd appreciate that, Doctor," Benson said. "I've requested a plainclothes officer to sit at his door to discourage any visitors who might want to influence his memory of what happened before we can get this thing locked down."

"If you feel that's necessary," the doctor said with a frown of concern. "I'll alert the staff that we're discouraging calls and visitors and stress to them that no information is to be given out about his condition."

"Can we talk to him for a few minutes before we go?" Stabler asked.

"Honestly, if Dr. Wilcox weren't here, I'd discourage it considering the emotional state he was in earlier. But if she thinks it's okay and if he's awake, I'll give you five minutes. He was starting to stir as I was leaving, but if he's not fully awake, don't force it. And try not to push him too hard. Right now rest is the best thing for him."

Benson, Stabler and Wilcox moved to the door and entered the room.

David was freshly awake, his intensely blue eyes still bleary with sleep as he looked nervously toward the door to see who had entered. A frown puckered his forehead slightly when he saw the two detectives, but the frown deepened and mixed with dismay when he saw the psychiatrist trailing behind them.

"Hello, David," the woman said gently, sitting in the chair by the bed and taking his hand. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better, Dr. Wilcox. You?"

"I'd be better if you'd called me when this first happened," she chided gently.

"Sorry," he muttered, a flush spreading across his pale cheeks. "I . . . I didn't know what to say. I knew something bad had happened but I couldn't remember what it was. And . . . and I didn't really think I wanted to remember. Then people started saying stuff to me about the party and what went on there, and I got scared. I was thinking about calling you this morning because I knew I was going to have to do something, but then I got called to Dean Jacobs' office and the shit hit the fan big time."

He dropped his eyes to the bed in misery. "The Dean said I'm getting expelled because of what happened. I don't know what to do. Where am I supposed to go if I can't go to school here? This place is all I have left." His voice had begun to tremble and the detectives could see he was clutching the doctor's hand like a lifeline.

"It's okay, David. I'll talk to the Dean. We can work something out," the woman said soothingly.

Stabler had thought it best to let the doctor handle the situation since Gallagher seemed more comfortable talking with her, but he couldn't restrain himself any longer. "You're not getting expelled, David," he said firmly. "Dean Jacobs understands now that this wasn't your fault. Right now he's only interested in punishing the men that did this to you."

Gallagher looked up at him hesitantly and the detective was struck by the thought that the young man in the bed looked different -- older, stronger, more together -- than the one he had left there earlier. "I'm sorry. I know you're the police detectives and you introduced yourselves earlier, but I don't remember your names."

"That's okay," Benson said flashing him a warm, understanding smile. "You've been through a lot today. I'm Detective Benson and this is my partner, Detective Stabler. We're with the Special Victims Unit."

Crystal blue eyes studied them intently as the young man nodded acknowledgment. "I'm David Gallagher, but I guess you knew that already."

Stabler watched uneasily as Gallagher exchanged small talk with his partner. The lost, frightened child they had met earlier was gone, and the quiet, composed young man who'd taken his place didn't seem as upset by the traumatic events of the past several hours.

"David, we need to get back downtown. We have Justin Graves waiting for us in an interrogation room. Is there anything else you can tell us about what happened the night of the party or in the days that followed that might help us?"

Sadness filled those big blue eyes and a trace of the lost little boy returned with it. "I don't think so. I tried really hard not to think about it. I didn't want to remember; I thought if I just ignored it, I wouldn't have to. I was hurting pretty bad the first couple of days, but I didn't want to go to the infirmary and have to try to explain why I was hurting where I was hurting, so I just stayed in my room and tried to do homework. I even skipped all my classes on Monday. But I finally forced myself to get up and go back to class on Tuesday.

"It was okay that morning, then out of the blue some guy I didn't recognize came up to me between classes and started saying stuff about how wild the party was and how wild I was and would I like to go have a private party with him. I said no thanks and walked away, but it really shook me up. Then I started noticing people pointing at me and whispering and there were a couple more guys who stopped me and made suggestive remarks. I was starting to get really freaked out, but I didn't know how to talk to anybody about it, what I could possibly say.

"Justin kept calling and leaving messages for me, but I really didn't know what to say to him after waking up in his bed like that and not remembering how I'd gotten there. From his messages it sounded like that night really meant a lot to him, and I didn't know how to tell him I don't feel that way about him. I never have. We've talked a couple times after class and he's hung out with me and my friends a couple of times. I was starting to think of him as a friend, but nothing more than that.

"Then I got the message to go to the Dean's office this morning, and . . . and found out the hard way just what I'd done."

"Not what you did, David," Stabler said firmly, "what Justin did **to** you. There's a big difference."

* * *

After assurances from Dr. Wilcox that she would stay with David until he fell asleep again, the two detectives left the hospital and headed back to their car.

"What do you think, Ell?" Benson asked, eying her partner curiously.

"I think this whole situation is seriously screwy," Stabler responded curtly as he rubbed eyes aching with tiredness. "Justin acts like he and David are the lovers of the century, but David says they're barely friends. It'll be interesting to see how Justin reacts to hearing he's not even a blip on David's radar in the romance department."

"I asked George Huang to observe our interview with Justin."

"Good. I'll be interested to hear what he thinks. I'm going to pull the files on David's kidnapping and recovery when we get back. He should probably take a look at them too. We need to know what happened to David while he was gone to get a handle on his state of mind through all this. I want to trust what he's telling us, but I keep getting the feeling something isn't right about his version of the story."

"I already asked for the files to be pulled and left on one of our desks."

Stabler smiled weakly, "Thanks. That'll save some time."

"How are you handling all this?"

"Me? I'm fine. Why?"

"Come on Elliot. I know you better than almost anyone. Are you really going to stand there and tell me you weren't sitting outside that room running through a catalog of all your kids' friends trying to figure out which one of them is the next Justin Graves."

Stabler shrugged and smiled ruefully. "Yeah, well that's an occupational hazard. I end up doing that with a lot of our cases."

"This one's different. I've seen it in your eyes from the beginning. Something about this one is hitting you harder than usual."

Stabler shrugged again and shot her an annoyed glance. "Do me a favor and don't psychoanalyze me, Liv. I'm already paying a small fortune to somebody else for that."

Benson rolled her eyes and Stabler relented slightly. "I really don't know what it is about this one, Liv. Maybe knowing what happened to him before, maybe just the fact that he's all alone in the world."

He ran a hand restlessly through his short dark hair. "Can you imagine having to face something like this alone, especially at that age. Having nobody around who gives enough of a damn to even notice something is wrong, let alone that you've been hurt like that. If that video hadn't surfaced, he'd still be trying to deal with it by himself. He never would have told that psychiatrist."

"She seems pretty perceptive to me. I think she would have picked up that something was wrong and pulled it out of him."

"Maybe, but how long would it have taken? She only meets with him once a month. How many weeks would have gone by with him sitting alone in his apartment trying to deal with the pain, humiliation, fear and guilt all by himself. Nobody should have to go through that. Nobody should be that alone."

Benson nodded grimly as they reached the car and got in. She gave her partner a brief sympathetic glance. She didn't need to be a psychiatrist to understand why this case was affecting him so deeply. Ever since Kathy had left him, Elliott's world had been crumbling around him. Now that the divorce was imminent, he was feeling lonely, vulnerable and lost -- seeing those same emotions emanating so intensely from David Gallagher was like looking into the depths of his own battered soul.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**

Benson and Stabler entered the SVU offices and stopped at their desks to see what the rest of the team had come up with in their absence. Captain Donald Cragen stepped out of his office to greet them.

"Its almost midnight. Do you two intend to do anything about the kid and his lawyer waiting in interrogation?"

"Oh, don't worry, that's our next stop," Stabler said with a malicious smile. "Is the kid climbing the walls yet?"

"The lawyer's keeping a tight rein on him, but he's definitely close to the edge."

"Good," Benson said. "He deserves whatever misery comes his way after what he did to David Gallagher."

"So it's definitely non-consensual?" Cragen queried.

"Justin slipped him a roofie - that automatically makes it non-consensual," Benson said with a touch of bitterness. "But all you have to do is look at David's face on that video to know it for sure."

"Have you got proof of the drugs?"

"Justin admitted it to the Dean."

"And when he recants, as we surely know he will?"

"No corroboration yet, but we're just getting started," Stabler said. "It's been almost a week so nothing is going to show on the drug screen. We'll interview all the party boys tomorrow and get one of them to roll on him."

"What about the vic?"

"He remembers taking a bottle of beer from Justin and drinking it, then not feeling well and laying down on Justin's bed. He doesn't remember anything else until the next morning."

"How old is the vic? Can we get him on provision of alcohol to a minor?"

"Afraid not. David turned 21 last month."

"Are we sure he's going to press charges?"

The detectives looked at each other, then Benson spoke, "We didn't get a chance to ask him that question directly, but he told the Dean he didn't want to press charges."

"But we'll change his mind," Stabler said with determination.

"Well that's just wonderful, Elliot," Cragen snapped, "but in the meantime you realize we've got nothing. We can't even justify holding him the standard 24 for suspicion on what you've got right now, which is basically consenting adults with really bad judgment."

"Then we'll get what we need in the interview. I don't intend to let this perv walk."

"Make sure you do so we can take these bastards down hard. No screwups. The kid's uncle is a bigwig so I'm already taking a lot of heat on this one. And once it goes public, it's going to become a media circus."

"I can see the headlines now - _The Top 10 Sex Clubs on American Campuses_, with Elmhurst in the #1 spot," Benson said without a smile.

"They better get a big supply of valium for that p.r. lady -- what was her name?" Stabler commented as he picked up the bulging file on David Gallagher's kidnapping and recovery that was sitting in the middle of his desk.

"Jenkins, Trudy Jenkins," Benson replied absently, as she flipped through the stack of interview summaries on hers.

"I'm serious about this, Elliot," Cragen said. "If you don't get what we need in the interview, we're going to have to street him. Don't let that happen."

"I won't, Captain," Stabler said solemnly.

"Good. Let me know when you're ready to start," Cragen said before turning and striding back to his office.

Benson shook her head and shot her partner an exasperated glance behind the Captain's back before saying, "Munch and Fin went back to do follow-ups with all the administrators while we were at the hospital. They left us copies of their notes. There's some interesting stuff here. You should look it over later. Did you get a chance to go over the interview summary Jacobs gave us?"

"Yeah. He wasn't asking the right questions to get what we need, but there's some good background stuff in there we can use with this dirtball," Stabler replied absently, a frown creasing his forehead as he continued to scan David Gallagher's file. "Jesus Christ," he muttered, stopping to re-read the page in front of him.

"What is it?"

"According to the interview David gave after he was found at the mall, the guy who took him lost interest in him around the time he turned 11. Instead of just letting him go, he traded him to other pedophiles for younger boys or prostituted him to get money to finance their life on the run."

"That poor kid."

"The last guy did a 'Pretty Woman' and rented the kid for a month. He must have grown a conscience momentarily, because he's the one who dropped David at the mall and called the Phoenix PD to come get him. Of course, that wasn't until the month was over and it was time to give him back," Stabler added bitterly.

"Hmpf. A very convenient conscience," Benson replied with disgust, as she shook her head sadly.

Stabler didn't answer as he finished reading the report, noting the description David had given of his 'savior' - tall, approximately 5'10" or 11" with a trim, athletic build, early 40s, short dark hair, blue eyes. He had only told the boy his first name - Kristian.

Stabler's eyes narrowed and his jaw set in a line of suppressed fury. He knew it wasn't David's fault that he'd confused him with this man. The physical description was so close, it sent a chill down his spine. But the thought that anyone could mistake him for the type of man who could do the things that had been done to that helpless child --.

"Elliot, what is it? Are you okay?" Benson broke in, looking at him with concern.

"Yeah," he mumbled, forcibly pushing back the anger and trying to clear his head for the upcoming interview. "Let's get this over with. It's been a tough day and I'd like to try and get some sleep before we have to tackle the rest of those interviews tomorrow."

Benson continued to stare at her partner in concern, seriously doubting he'd be getting any sleep that night. "Okay. You let Huang and the Captain know we're ready. I'll grab us some coffee and meet you there."

* * *

As the detectives entered the interview room, each with a cup of coffee in one hand and a notepad and pen in the other, a heavyset, middle-aged man with short graying hair and a neatly trimmed beard and mustache of the same color jumped up from his seat.

"It's about time! This is outrageous! You've kept us waiting here for almost three hours. It's past midnight. This is harassment!"

Benson flashed him an apologetic smile and said brightly, "We're so sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. . . . ."

"Billings, Stanley Billings. Of Wentworth, Stackhouse & Billings. I've been hired to represent Justin."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Billings," Benson continued in the same calm, apologetic tone. "I'm Detective Benson of the Special Victims Unit. And this is my partner, Detective Stabler."

Put off by Benson's pleasant manner, the man stood stammering for a moment before his inbred politeness forced him to murmur, "Pleased to meet you," as he shook each of their hands.

"Hired by whom?" Stabler asked offhandedly as the man pumped his hand quickly.

"Excuse me?" Billings said, clearly taken aback.

"You said you were hired to represent Justin, hired by whom?"

The man looked at Stabler agape. "I . . . that's really none of your business, Detective, but if you must know, Justin's uncle is a good friend of mine. He's been the boy's guardian since his father died a few years ago. He's currently out of the country and asked me to keep an eye on Justin while he's gone."

"Looks like you didn't do too good a job," Stabler responded pleasantly, an insincere smile plastered on his face.

The man's face reddened and he began blustering, "I . . . You have no right . . . !"

The introductions had pulled Billings out of his seat and halfway around the table from his client. Stabler used the opportunity to swing back to confront Graves. "Hi Justin. Remember us? Sorry to keep you so long, but we just got back from the hospital."

"You took David to the hospital?" Justin leaped instantly at the bait. "Is he okay? How long does he have to stay there? When can I see him?"

"Be quiet, Justin!" Billings snapped.

The young man glared at his attorney in response and turned beseeching eyes to Stabler.

"He's being kept overnight for observation," Benson cut in. "The doctor was concerned about possible internal injuries from the assault. And they need to run some blood tests to make sure he didn't contract any diseases," she added with obvious distaste.

"Yeah," Stabler picked up the ball smoothly. "You'd think somebody who cared about David as much as you say you do would have made sure he got medical treatment right away after going through something as traumatic as that. Having fourteen guys sodomize you. That's gotta hurt," he added, absently rubbing a hand down his left hip.

Graves flushed guiltily as his eyes followed the movement. "It's not that bad," he said defensively. "And I had every intention of taking care of him. I kept calling and stopping by, but he wouldn't answer the door or return my calls. There wasn't anything I could do."

"Justin, I told you to be quiet!" his lawyer thundered, in a desperate attempt to shut his client up.

"It's not that bad?" Stabler mocked, ignoring the lawyer. "Really? You sound so confident. Like you know from personal experience."

"I do," Justin snapped back. "Everybody in the fraternity goes through it. It's not that big a deal. There are rules. Everybody's got to use plenty of lube and wear a condom. The guys in charge are adamant about that."

"You didn't use a condom when you jacked off in his mouth at the end," Benson jumped in.

"That . . . that's different."

"Why?" Stabler pressed.

"Stop!" Billings thundered. "Justin, you are not to say one more word or I am withdrawing from this case and leaving you to handle this mess on your own. Is that clear?"

Graves glowered at him but nodded sullenly.

"Now Detectives, has a formal complaint been filed against my client?"

"Not yet," Stabler said coldly, but we're expecting to have one some time tomorrow.

"In that case, we're leaving," Billings said through clenched teeth as he snapped his leather portfolio closed and shoved it in his briefcase. "Come along, Justin."

As the two rose to leave, Stabler sat back in his chair, looked Graves directly in the eye and said coldly, "Counselor, please advise your client to stay away from David Gallagher. David has made it clear he has no feelings whatsoever for Justin and wants nothing to do with him. If Justin attempts to contact him in any way, we'll assume it's an attempt at witness tampering and add a count of obstruction of justice to the complaint."

Justin's face had gone pale. "That's a lie! David never would have said those things. He loves me just as much as I love him. I know he does!"

Stabler laughed derisively. "Yeah, right. What's not to love. It's not every day you find a guy who'll lure you to his room, slip drugs in your drink, then let thirteen other guys do you up the ass while you're too out of it to fight back."

"And don't forget the part where David was asking him to make it stop and he just fed him vodka to keep him quiet," Benson cut in. "Or when he just walked away afterwards to go play with the other boys, leaving David alone and barely conscious, at the mercy of some other guy. Too bad the video ended there. I wonder what kind of fun the blond had with David after Justin left the room."

"That's not what happened! You've got it all wrong!" Justin yelled at them. "I love David! I never would have hurt him! And I never would have made him do anything he didn't want to do either. He wanted to be there. Just ask him. And Michael never would have done anything to hurt him either. He's our doctor. All he did was clean David up and help him to bed."

"If we've got it so wrong, Justin, why don't you tell us what really happened, from the beginning?" Benson said reasonably. "We'd really like to hear your side of the story, because what we've heard from other people so far doesn't jibe with what you're saying at all. Are you going to try to tell us Dean Jacobs is lying? He told us you confessed to him that you slipped a roofie in David's drink."

"No, he's not lying. I did tell him that, but it was a lie. I was trying to protect David, not hurt him. Getting expelled would have killed him. His parents taught at Elmhurst; it's all he has left of them. He was already in meltdown when I got in the room. I had to do something to get the Dean to stop yelling at him. I didn't think it mattered what I said, because I knew I was going to be expelled anyway. It never occurred to me the Dean would call the police about it."

"You really expect us to buy that pile of crap?" Stabler snapped with an incredulous laugh.

Graves opened his mouth to speak again, but Billings bellowed, "That's enough! This interview is over! Walk out of the room right now Justin!" When his client hesitated, the man yelled again, "Now!"

"Afraid not," Stabler said, his voice solid ice. "As you well know, Counselor, we have the right to hold a suspect for 24 hours before arraigning him while we conduct our investigation."

"Investigation of what?" the lawyer retorted just as coldly. "You've got a videotape that shows consenting adults participating in consensual sex. The only reason you thought my client committed a crime was because of a statement he made to a third party which he just told you was a lie intended to protect his friend from being expelled. Last time I checked the penal code the only time lying is a crime is when it's under oath. You have absolutely no reason to hold my client other than to harass him because of his sexual preference."

"Excuse me!" Benson said, stunned. "That's ridiculous and you know it! This has nothing to do with your client's sexual preference and everything to do with him being a rapist. He'd be headed for a cell regardless of the sex of his victim."

The argument was interrupted by the slamming of the door against the wall as Captain Cragen stormed in. "That's enough for now people. Mr. Graves is being released into your custody for the moment, Counselor, but he is not to leave town without prior notice to the District Attorney's office and he's to surrender his passport to them until our investigation is completed."

"That's ludicrous!" Billings stormed. "You have no right to restrict my client's movements if he's not under arrest."

"Maybe not," Cragen shouted back, "but that's the deal your client's uncle -- the Ambassador," he added, directing the qualifier at his detectives who already had their mouths open to argue, "agreed to in order to secure his release tonight. Since Mr. Graves is over 18, he is certainly free to disavow that deal, at which time we'll be more than happy to dropkick his sorry ass into a cell."

The attorney's cellphone began to ring.

"That'll be the Ambassador confirming the deal for you," Cragen snapped. "You have two minutes from the time you get off the phone with him to accept it, or your client is heading to the tombs. We'll be waiting outside."

Cragen signaled Benson and Stabler to follow him out of the interview room. They were barely out the door before Stabler exploded. "What the hell was that, Captain!"

"That was politics at its worst, Detective. I got a call from the Mayor's Office telling me the State Department called him to say the Ambassador is in the middle of delicate negotiations in some country ending with "stan and doesn't need any distractions right now, especially if they involve his prodigal nephew. I was specifically ordered to cut Justin loose unless we have concrete, irrefutable proof of wrongdoing on his part, which, as you well know, we do not. I was lucky to get them to agree to the restrictions on his movements."

"Damn it!" Stabler snapped, pounding his fist on the nearest desk in frustration. "You know this'll just give him time to cover his tracks."

"Well, I guess that means you'll just have to work a little harder to uncover them again," Cragen snapped back.

The door to the interview room opened and Billings exited followed by a sullen Graves. "My client agrees to your deal," Billings said stiffly.

Stabler locked eyes with Justin. "Stay away from David Gallagher," he said in his coldest, deadliest voice.

Graves' face twisted into a scornful smirk and his reply was full of mocking, "That wasn't part of the deal, Detective."

"Let's go Justin," Billings snapped, eying Stabler warily.

The young man's smile widened in triumph and, without another word, he turned and preceded his attorney out the door.

* * *

Benson and Stabler returned to the interview room to gather their notepads and pens in dispirited silence. Dr. George Huang entered with a frown.

"That was short and sweet."

"Yeah," Stabler responded gruffly. "Too bad he lawyered up so quick. We'd already have a full confession if he hadn't."

"Which is why our legal system is designed the way it is," Huang responded with a touch of irritation.

"Come on, Doc," Benson said. "You can't possibly believe that kid deserves any kind of break after seeing the tape and hearing what he told the Dean. That bullshit story about him lying to protect David from getting expelled is total crap and we all know it. It's obvious from the way David was moving on the tape and his description of how he felt before and after the blackout that he was drugged."

"I agree, but I don't think this situation is as clear cut as it appears," Huang replied enigmatically.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Stabler asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow as he pinned the FBI psychiatrist with a glare.

Huang leveled his own steady gaze back at them and responded, "I'm concerned about the disparity between Justin's version of his relationship with David and what David told you. I think I need to talk to David before I can give you an official opinion, but obviously one of them isn't telling the truth."

"I can guarantee you that one's the liar," Stabler said forcefully. "David seemed genuinely surprised when Liv asked if Justin was his boyfriend, as though the thought had never crossed his mind."

"I'd still like to talk to David. It would help me in understanding the dynamic between them."

"We'll be picking him up from the hospital tomorrow and bringing him back here to fill out the complaint forms. I'm sure he won't mind talking to you," Benson said. "In the meantime, do you have anything that might be useful for our interviews tomorrow?"

"Justin is fixated on David. If there really is no relationship between them, then I'm concerned that he's not only fantasizing one, but is talking so freely about it. He had absolutely no hesitation in saying that he loves David or that David loves him. He has no fear of reprisals for being involved in a homosexual relationship. To him the relationship is real and he absolutely believes it's real.

"When you contradicted him and confronted him with the reality that David doesn't love him, it didn't shake him at all. His anger seemed to be directed more toward his belief that you were deliberately misrepresenting their relationship to build your case. I could tell by the look on his face, he thinks all of this is just a big misunderstanding and as soon as he can talk to David it'll get straightened out.

"My biggest concern is his lack of empathy for the amount of pain, both emotional and physical, involved in the assault. He seems unable to comprehend that David might have been hurt. Frankly, his dismissive attitude when he said he went through the same thing and it was nothing really shocked me. And he seems totally unable to accept the possibility that David's reaction to the situation might be different from his own. It's almost as if he sees David as an extension of himself emotionally, a twin who's going to react to any situation exactly the same way he would."

"A soul mate?" Benson posited.

"That seems to fit with his vision of the relationship."

"Sounds more like a classic sociopath to me," Stabler interjected.

"That's a possibility too," Huang said with some reluctance. "But then again it could be something else entirely. I don't want to use a label like that until I have more information to go on."

"What aren't you telling us?" Benson asked.

Huang hesitated for a moment as the two detectives stared at him expectantly.

"I think it's very likely Justin was also a victim of sexual abuse. His casual acceptance of the type of sex going on at that party, his indifference to the pain involved, his attempt to justify the conduct on the basis of the group's rules governing it -- if he grew up in an abusive environment where that type of behavior was commonplace, he wouldn't see anything wrong with it."

"Wait a minute! Are you really going to try and turn this around and make Justin into the victim after everything he did to David?" Stabler said with a disbelieving laugh. "Not a chance! That kid's a cold-blooded predator. You can see it in his eyes. And I have no intention of allowing him to get away with this and risk him thinking he can move on and do it again to someone else."

"I'm not saying anything for sure right now, Detective," Huang snapped defensively. "I'm just giving you two possible scenarios based on my observations so far. Use them or discard them as you see fit."

Sensing her partner's temper flare, Benson jumped in, using her most conciliatory tone. "No one's questioning your judgment or ability, George. We really appreciate your help on this, and your willingness to come in so late to help us out. You'll have to forgive us if we seem more cynical than usual. This one is really tough. David Gallagher seems like a really nice kid. It was hard to see the affect the assault had on him. He was practically having a breakdown in front of our eyes. And then finding out about his past. It seems like every time I think I've seen it all, . . . well, let's just say I'm unpleasantly surprised to find out there's still worse out there."

"Yeah," Stabler murmured as he rubbed his face wearily. "It's bad enough knowing most of the monsters kids really need to fear aren't in the closet or under the bed, but living down the street or walking across from them in the park. It's worse knowing some of them might be sitting right next to them in class."

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4**

The detectives were at their desks bright and early the next morning preparing the paperwork for their meeting with ADA Casey Novak. Stabler knew their case was shaky right now but Casey had a good heart along with being a tough, no nonsense ADA. If there was any legal way to arrest the dirtbags who had been involved in the assault on David Gallagher and make charges stick, she'd figure out how to do it.

At 9:00 a.m. on the button Novak sailed through the office door in a crisp business suit, her medium length blond hair carefully styled into its usual flip and her makeup subtle and professional. She had a cup of coffee in one hand and an overstuffed briefcase in the other. Benson looked up from her desk and indicated the conference room. Novak nodded and shifted direction as she cheerily greeted some of the other detectives. Captain Cragen came out of his office and headed for the conference room as Stabler and Benson gathered their notes and files and headed in the same direction. Dr. Huang was already in the room reviewing the file on David Gallagher's kidnapping when the others entered.

Once the entire group was gathered around the conference table, Novak began the meeting with her usual directness, "What else have you got for me because I'm not liking what I've seen so far."

Stabler frowned, "You watched the video?"

"I watched the video. I certainly expect it'll fuel some pretty nasty nightmares, but on its own it proves nothing. You've got fifteen men, all over the age of 18, engaging in some pretty disgusting behavior, but there's nothing illegal about that on its face."

Stabler opened his mouth to argue, but Novak held up her hand. "Let me finish, Elliott. I understand David is saying he didn't consent to what was done to him, but he's also saying he has very little memory of what actually did happen. He doesn't remember what he said to the men in that room, but from the statements Dean Jacobs gave you, none of those he interviewed thought anything was wrong. David doesn't appear to be struggling or resisting in any way on the video. We can argue til we're blue in the face that that's only because the Graves kid slipped him drugs, but you only have Dean Jacobs' statement to support that, and as we all know that's hearsay.

"The kid's got a lawyer now - and a pretty good one at that - so I can almost guarantee that once you have him in cuffs and Mirandized, his story is going to change dramatically. Hell, I've been at this long enough, I can probably tell you what the new story's going to be."

"We interviewed him late last night," Stabler said heavily. "The new story is he made the drug thing up to get the Dean to stop yelling at David and to keep him from expelling him. He didn't expect the Dean to call the police about it."

"Great," Novak snorted. "Totally predictable. And it puts a torpedo right through your case."

"What about the alcohol?" Benson suggested. "David said Justin got them both beers when they arrived at the frat house. And the video shows Justin drinking vodka and feeding it to David. Justin's still under 21 even if David isn't."

Novak shrugged, "Another case of needing a corroborating witness. Did Justin admit he got himself a beer or just that he got David one? David has already admitted his memory of that evening is spotty, so everything he says has to be taken with a grain of salt. And as far as the vodka goes, just because the bottle says vodka, that doesn't mean that's what's in it. It could be water for all we know. And even if we can get somebody to admit that it really was vodka, underage drinking is a slap on the hand. It might get you a foot in the door to get a warrant for a full search of the place, but that's only once you have an actual complainant. Has David signed on the dotted line yet? His being of age is working against us on this one. If he were still a minor, we could have started the ball rolling last night without him."

"He's still at the hospital," Stabler responded. "They kept him overnight. We're picking him up around noon and bringing him back here to finish the paperwork."

"You realize time isn't on your side here. The longer you wait, the more the rumor mill churns and the more people hear about what's been going on. This is a big, fat juicy story full of homosexual sex, drugs and alcohol, and once the media catch wind of it, they're going to have a field day. The guys on the video have already been alerted by Dean Jacobs' investigation that their heads are on the chopping block. If they've heard the police are involved, they'll have that house spic and span clean by the time you get there."

"What about the video itself," Cragen suggested. "I got the impression from the way the men were acting that the camera wasn't in plain view. Are we sure they all knew they were being videotaped? And what about distribution of the video? Do the sale and distribution of pornography statutes come into play? It sounds like copies of the thing are all over the campus, and that probably includes the hands of underage students."

Novak shrugged again, "Interview them and find out. Get me a complainant or find me a law that's been broken, ladies and gentlemen. I can't do anything for you without one. The best I can do right now is be ready to push through the paperwork for the search warrant for the frat house once you have David's signature on the dotted line."

After Novak and Huang left, Stabler, Benson and Cragen sat in the conference room staring dejectedly at one another.

"Where do we stand on the vic - David Gallagher. Do you really think we're going to have trouble getting him to file a complaint?" Cragen asked, his eyes boring into those of his two lead detectives.

"No," Stabler said with conviction at the same time Benson said, "Well . . . ."

The detectives looked at each other in surprise as Cragen barked, "Well, which is it?"

"He was in pretty bad shape last night, Captain," Benson said hesitantly. "He practically had a nervous breakdown right in front of our eyes."

"He was better once we got him to the hospital," Stabler rebutted stubbornly. "By the time we left, he was back in control of himself and talking and acting normally."

"I saw the file," Cragen said heavily. "This kid's already been through hell and back once. And you know the other men's lawyers are going to use his past to try and tear him apart. Are we sure he can take the heat?"

"Are you saying we shouldn't even try, Captain?" Stabler asked indignantly. "That we should just let those bastards get away with what they did to him?"

"Of course not, Elliott, and I'm offended you'd suggest such a thing. What I am saying is this kid's been through the wringer on the super speed cycle already. I want to make sure we're not doing him more harm than good by forcing him to go through a process that's going to rip apart what little self-esteem he has left. We've seen vics before in situations that weren't even half as bad as this go over the deep end and try to kill themselves.

"I remember his case - when he disappeared. It was one of the most heart-wrenching things I'd ever heard of. The bastard who was molesting him only beat the police coming to arrest him by ten minutes, but it was enough for him to escape and disappear with the kid for five years. When the report came in from the Phoenix PD that they'd found David alive, and in reasonably good shape, there were grown men crying in the squad room. It seemed like a sign from God that things can turn out all right after all.

"From what you've told me, David seems like he's grown up into a nice, reasonably normal young man despite everything that happened to him. I don't want him to become another sacrifice on the altar of justice."

"You're right, Captain," Stabler said repentently. "I'm sorry for what I said before. I didn't mean to imply you were looking for the easy way out at David's expense."

"Apology accepted," Cragen said. "But if you really want to show me you mean it, go catch me some bad guys."

* * *

"So what now?" Benson asked as the two detectives walked out of the station house toward their car. "We can't do much without the signed complaint."

"We can't do much formally," Stabler corrected with a mischievous grin. "I think Casey's right about the frat boys cleaning up the house before we get there. So why don't we pay them an unofficial visit right now and rattle their cages a bit."

Benson's lips curved into an answering grin. "Let's go."

* * *

Benson stared out the passenger window, her eyebrow raised, as the three-story victorian home that had been converted into the fraternity's playhouse came into view. "Nice digs."

"If you play your cards right, maybe they'd be willing to give you a deal on a room."

"Hmmf," Benson snorted. "I don't think I have the right plumbing to interest them in making a deal, and even if I did, I doubt I'd like the terms. Aren't you looking for a place?"

"Ha, ha, funny," her partner replied with an easy smile as he parked the car and they got out.

Just as they reached the steps leading to the porch, the front door opened and a tall, broad-shouldered light-skinned man with dark brown hair and piercing brown eyes stepped out onto the porch. He stood in front of the door with thick, muscular arms crossed over his chest as he studied them with unfriendly eyes. "Can I help you?"

Stabler plastered a fake smile on his face and pulled out his I.D. Benson followed suit. "Police. We'd like to ask you a few questions about a party held on these premises last Friday night."

"What about it? It was a private party - fraternity members only. No excessive noise. No one puking in the neighbors' bushes. No cops knocking on the door saying they'd received complaints. We try to be good neighbors."

"I'm sure you're all outstanding citizens of the community and your parents are very proud," Stabler replied in a slightly mocking tone.

"So what's the problem?"

"We're investigating an alleged sexual assault at the party."

"You must be mistaken, Officer. Nothing like that happened here. And I know all the guys at the party, none of them would make an allegation like that."

"You know all of them?" Benson cut in with relief. "Well, that'll make our job a lot easier, won't it, Elliot. What's your name by the way?"

The big man frowned. "Gregg, Gregg Peterson."

"Nice to meet you, Gregg," Stabler said, his faux smile still firmly in place. "I'm Detective Stabler. Elliot Stabler. And this is my partner, Detective Benson. Are you the man in charge around here?"

Something he heard in the tone of the question made Peterson stand up a little straighter and give Stabler an assessing gaze, before finally saying, "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Good," Stabler said, keeping the easy smile in place. "It's always good to deal with the man in charge. Less hassles that way. Don't you agree, Gregg."

"Sure," the man replied a little uncertainly as he turned his gaze from Stabler to Benson then back again.

"Would you mind if we went inside and sat down, Gregg? It's a little cold out here."

"You got a search warrant?"

"Do we really need one, Gregg?" Benson asked with dismay. "And here we thought we would just drop by, sit down for a nice friendly chat and get this mess straightened out in a few minutes without having to deal with all those nasty formalities. But I guess if you need us to go through the hassle of getting a search warrant, we'll have to do it."

She sighed dramatically. "It's really too bad, though, because I don't know about Elliot here, but after wasting my morning wading through all that red tape, I know I'm not going to be in the mood for a nice, friendly chat any more once I get done. In fact, I'll probably have to insist that you and all your buddies come down to the station to talk to us instead while our guys tear this place apart."

Stabler gave a sympathetic nod. "Yeah, Gregg. I really hate wasting my time like that too. I'm sure you'd agree there are a whole lot more pleasant ways I could spend that time," he added flashing Peterson another easy smile.

The big man gazed speculatively at Stabler again then looked nervously toward the door. The detectives noted the slight fluttering of a curtain on a nearby window before Peterson said, "Well, okay. As long as all you want to do is talk, it's not a problem."

"What are you so worried about, Gregg?" Stabler asked as the man led them inside and into a comfortable sitting room filled with cushy armchairs and lined with bookshelves stuffed with books. "You said nothing happened at the party and we have no reason to doubt your veracity at this point. So what's the problem?"

Peterson shrugged. "There've been rumors going around the last week or so about what goes on here. Nasty, ugly rumors that are completely untrue. We deliberately set this house up off campus to get away from all the prying eyes, and we kept ourselves an unofficial fraternity with no affiliation to any national chapter just so we could do what we wanted without a lot of hassle. Everybody who lives here or is invited here by a member is over 18 and anything that happens here is between consenting adults. There are rules and the members all understand why it's absolutely imperative they all live by them. We don't want any outsiders causing trouble for us."

"Well, it seems one of your members didn't follow the rules so good, Gregg. What can you tell me about Justin Graves?"

The man was clearly startled. "Justin? What's Justin got to do with this?"

"Justin brought a friend with him to the party, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Peterson responded, the hint of a smile crossing his face. "Another guy who wanted to join the fraternity. David, David something. I don't remember his last name, but he sure knows how to party."

"Really? Funny thing about that," Benson said casually. "David says he wasn't really in a partying mood Friday night until he went to Justin's room and Justin gave him a beer. He doesn't remember a whole lot after that."

Peterson's eyes narrowed. "The guy can't hold his liquor it ain't our fault. He seemed perfectly fine when I saw him. I ran through the rules with him and asked if he understood and agreed to them. He nodded his head yes. As far as I could tell, he understood exactly what was going to happen. And he never complained or said he wanted to stop."

"And what exactly did you tell him was going to happen?" Stabler asked, sitting back in his chair and forcing himself to keep his body language relaxed and casual.

Peterson let his gaze linger appreciatively as he followed the casual movement, then glanced at Benson. "Look. Like I said, we're all consenting adults here. The parties are about sex, everybody knows that. Sex among consenting adults. I know there are a lot of puritanical people out there who'd have a fit if they knew what went on here, but it's none of their damn business. Nobody's getting hurt. It's just sex."

He let his eyes sweep slowly over Stabler again. "You're a guy. You understand about these things. For guys it's all about sex. Women," he shot a dismissive glance at Benson, "they just don't get it. Guy gets his rocks off and two seconds later he's thinking about the football game, whether he'll make it to the garage in time to get the car inspected or how soon he can get another piece of ass. It ain't that big a deal."

Stabler laughed easily, "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's okay, my partner is pretty hip for a woman. She's not one of those clingy types who wants to know your intentions before the act's even over."

A look of relief passed over Peterson's face. "That's cool. So we got nothing to worry about, this thing is going to go away, right?"

"I'm not so sure about that, Gregg," Benson jumped into the conversation with a touch of regret in her voice. "You see, there's a little complication. Seems Justin didn't just give David a beer; he added something extra special to it, if you know what I mean. The kind of extra special that makes you think anything - say like jumping out a window, running into rush hour traffic on the highway, or even letting fourteen guys you don't know sodomize you - is okay. And, unfortunately for you and your friends, that is a crime, so no, this thing isn't going to just go away."

Peterson's mouth had dropped open in stunned silence. "That stupid little weasel. I'm going to kill him. I knew there was something screwy about him. I wasn't crazy about him joining the group because he's not really my type, but he was so much fun at the parties, I let it slide. I never thought he'd pull anything like that. I mean, I thought it was weird he was giving everybody a shot at his boyfriend, but you've seen that guy David, right -- nobody was turning down a piece of that."

"Justin introduced David as his boyfriend?" Stabler asked.

"Yeah, sure. It was pretty obvious anyway. They were all over each other. Kissing and necking from the minute they walked in the door, their hands all over each other most of the time."

"So it looked mutual to you. It wasn't just Justin kissing and touching David? David was reciprocating?"

"Sure. There wasn't much Justin could do if he wasn't. That David's gotta be around 6 foot and Justin's barely 5'5." He wouldn't have been able to do much if David hadn't been cooperating."

Stabler and Benson exchanged troubled glances.

"You mentioned the rules earlier," Benson said casually. "What exactly are they?"

"New initiates got to let at least five guys do them. They can take more on if they want, but the minimum is five. Everyone's got to use a condom and plenty of lube for the initiation. We don't want anybody getting hurt."

"Why five," Stabler asked shooting Peterson a slow smile.

The man returned the smile and relaxed in his chair. "That's how many guys were in the original group. No fair making the new guys take more than the original group had to."

"Can't argue with that," Benson said. "Do most guys try anyway?"

"Not too many. Justin was the first one in over a year to run the whole gauntlet. It was twelve that night. And he did it like it was nothing. He even wanted to keep partying afterwards. So when he said he was bringing a friend who likes to party as much as he does, well, let's just say we had a full house that night. Anybody with other plans canceled them."

"So the entire group was there last Friday?"

"Yeah. Everybody was there."

"So what if somebody doesn't like using condoms?" Stabler asked, keeping the easy smile in place as he met Peterson's gaze.

Peterson shifted in his seat and his smile got brighter. "No way around that rule unless you come as a couple. If you're already a couple, you don't have to use them with each other but you've got to use them with everybody else."

"So Justin wouldn't have had to use a condom with David if he didn't want to?" Benson asked.

"No, but he did."

"Did he now?" Stabler asked casually.

"That's right, Ell, he did at the beginning," Benson cut in, "I remember that on the video. It was at the end, when he jacked off in David's mouth, that he didn't."

Peterson's face went ash white. "You . . . you've seen the video."

"Sure," Stabler said. "You've got to know it's floating around. You got called into Dean Jacobs' office because of it. Did you really think it hadn't made its way to us yet?"

Peterson rebounded quickly. "Well if you've already seen the video, why are you hassling me? It's all there in full color. It's obvious David wasn't complaining or fighting to get away or nothing. No one was holding him down and forcing him to do anything. It was his choice to run the gauntlet. Nobody made him do it. He could have stopped it any time he wanted. I told him that myself."

"Justin was certainly encouraging him," Stabler said, the easy smile still in place. "At one point he was feeding him vodka to keep him going."

Before Peterson could respond, a medium built man with dark cocoa skin, deep brown eyes, short black hair that lay in small tight curls against his scalp and an athletic build, who the detectives knew from the expression on his face had been eavesdropping the entire time, strode into the room. "You must be mistaken, Officer. We don't allow underage drinking at any of our functions. Justin never had any alcohol."

"Really?" Benson said. "Because there's this one time he's holding the bottle up and you can see the label real clearly. I could have sworn it said vodka. Didn't it say vodka, Ell?"

"That's what I saw," Stabler responded.

"He must have been using an empty filled with water as a prop," the man responded. "Justin is very dramatic. He likes to put on a show."

"Well, he certainly put on quite a show that night, didn't he?" Stabler responded drily.

The man shrugged. "It was a very entertaining evening. All the members seemed to enjoy it. I haven't heard any complaints from anybody."

"If someone were to have a complaint," Benson interjected, "are you the one it would be directed to, Mr. . . . I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Bishop. Peter Bishop," the man responded after a note of hesitation. "And I would be one of the people who'd hear if there were complaints. We don't really have titles because the group isn't an official fraternity, but for all intents and purposes Gregg is our president and I'm vice president. We're the ones people come to with problems, questions or complaints."

"So nobody had any problems, questions or complaints about the party last Friday?" Benson pressed.

"No problems and definitely no complaints. As far as questions, practically everybody asked if they could get David's number or if we knew where he lived. But Justin made it clear when he brought him that David was his, so we just told them sorry, he's already taken."

Stabler shot an amused smile at Bishop. "And everybody was willing to respect that."

Bishop shrugged noncommitally. "They had to respect it at the time. No poaching allowed at group functions. It makes for unpleasantness, and we strongly discourage unpleasantness. It's all about relaxing and having a good time with others who share your interest in that particular type of recreation. If you happen to run into somebody who was off limits at a party some other time, like on campus or at the mall or wherever, and he's open for some extracurricular activity, well, that's a different story."

"Did anybody try for extracurricular activity with David?" Benson asked.

"Man, did they! But he shot . . . ," Peterson burst in gleefully before Bishop cut him off with a withering glare.

"Really, Gregg?" Stabler said directing the easy smile at Peterson again. "Do you know who?"

"Well, um," Gregg hesitated.

"He didn't shoot **you** down, did he?" Stabler asked in a tone that indicated he couldn't believe that would ever happen.

Peterson's grin widened at the implied compliment and he sat a little straighter in his seat, using the movement to flex his muscles slightly as if to work out a cramp.

"Jesus Christ, Gregg," Bishop snapped with disgust. "Why don't you just ask him up to your room now and get it over with. You can spill your guts as foreplay, but I guarantee when he goes to snap the cuffs on you, he won't be playing."

Peterson's face flamed bright red and Stabler laughed easily. "As interesting as that proposition sounds, I'll have to pass."

"Yeah, I figured that," Bishop said with contempt. "I see you're wearing a wedding ring, Detective. How long you been married? How many kids you got?"

"Almost 20 years. Four beautiful kids who are the joy of my life," Stabler responded keeping the easy grin in place. He didn't think it was necessary to mention that the ink was just about dry on the divorce papers.

Peterson's face flushed a deeper red as he finally realized how completely he'd been played.

"If that's all, Detectives, we have things to do," Bishop said coolly.

"Actually that's not all," Benson cut in. "You haven't answered my question. Who out of the group made a play for David after the party, Gregg?"

Peterson glowered at her, but responded through gritted teeth, "Ben mentioned he saw him on campus a couple of days ago without Justin and decided to give it a go; he was pretty pissed - David didn't just shoot him down, he didn't even seem to remember who he was. Tommy said pretty much the same thing."

The big man flushed again as he admitted, "When I approached him, he was real polite but distant. Thanks, but no thanks."

"Did he seem upset at all?" Benson asked.

"He seemed surprised at first, then preoccupied, like he was thinking about something else entirely. I figured Justin had him on a pretty tight leash. Who'da thought?"

"Who'da thought what?" Stabler chimed in.

Peterson's face started to flush again and he looked at Benson instead of Stabler as he responded. "A stone cold fox like David wanting to be with a scrawny little runt like Justin. I mean, Justin's okay. He's always eager to play and will do whatever you want to do, but as an exclusive? Especially when you've got your choice of any of the guys at the party. You saw the video - we got some hot athletic types and some of the best looking brains on campus to choose from. I just don't get why anybody with options like that would saddle himself to Justin."

"Do Ben and Tommy have last names?" Benson asked.

"Yeah, sure. Ben Chase and Tommy DiNardo."

"Where can we find them?"

"They had class this morning, so probably somewhere on campus," Bishop cut in coolly.

"No way you can narrow that down some?" Stabler asked giving him a pointed stare.

A cold smile spread over the man's face. "Sorry."

"That's okay," Benson said easily. "I'll leave you my card and you can just have them call me when they get back."

"Sure," Bishop said taking the card and, without looking at it, stuffing it into his pocket.

Benson saw Peterson glance quickly at Stabler to see if he would offer his card, and noted the look of disappointment that momentarily crossed the man's face when he realized her partner didn't intend to. She tried to hide the smile twitching at the corners of her mouth, as she said casually, "Guess we better get going, Elliot. It doesn't look like Peter and Gregg know anything else that's useful, and we wouldn't want to keep them from their schoolwork."

"Okay," Stabler responded amenably as he unfolded himself from the chair and straightened his trenchcoat. "Oh, just one more thing, fellas," he added as though it were a simple afterthought. "Is Michael here? We were told he's the group's doctor and we need to speak to him about the treatment he gave David after the party."

Both men froze in surprise for a second then exchanged nervous glances before Bishop said hesitantly, "I don't know what you mean. Michael's not a doctor. He's pre-med, but he's not a doctor yet. He'll sometimes listen to a guy's complaints and tell him whether he should see a doctor or just take an aspirin, but anything more than that would be practicing medicine without a license."

"Hmmm. Let me guess," Stabler said, "you're pre-law, right."

Bishop responded with a glare that clearly communicated his opinion of the detective's sense of humor.

"Okay," Benson interjected. "Michael's pre-med, not a real doctor. We still want to see him. Where is he?"

"I'm right here," came a voice from the stairs in the hallway behind them. What's this about?"

The detectives turned to see the tall, blond man who had been arguing with Justin at the end of the video come down the final step from the second floor and stride purposefully into the room.

"Detective Benson. This is my partner, Detective Stabler. We'd like to speak with you for a few minutes about the party last Friday night."

The man's eyes immediately became wary, but he said with feigned casualness, "What about it?"

"Anything strike you as particularly memorable about that evening?" Stabler asked.

Michael shrugged and with the same forced casualness responded, "It was a pretty memorable evening all around. Everybody seemed to be having a great time."

"What about David Gallagher?" Benson interjected sharply. "Did he have a great time?"

The blond man shrugged again, obviously uncomfortable. "He wanted to run the gauntlet. By the time you're getting near the end, it's gotta be uncomfortable. But it was his choice to keep going. He was pretty wasted by the time it was over."

"Wasted how?" Stabler asked.

"As soon as it was over, Justin helped him lie down and he went right to sleep. Some of the other guys were disappointed because they wanted him to come play some more, but there was no way -- even if Justin would have allowed it, which he said from the very beginning he wouldn't, I wouldn't have. He'd already had enough. Any more could have done some internal damage."

"Nice to know you take the doctor's 'do no harm' mantra so seriously," Stabler said with obvious contempt.

"We were told you cleaned him up afterwards," Benson said, ignoring the unfriendly looks being exchanged by her partner and the blond.

He shrugged again. "I did the basics. There was a little bleeding. I cleaned it up and put on some antibiotic ointment. He might have had a little too much to drink too, but he was exhausted more than anything else -- I think he and Justin did some preliminary partying before the main event -- and he needed to get some sleep. Justin was ready to go all night; he was really pissed when I told him David was done for the night and he needed to leave him alone too."

"So Justin stomped off to console himself partying with the other boys while you took care of David. Did you give him any special treatment while the two of you were alone together?"

The blond's face reddened with anger. "How dare you make an insinuation like that, Detective. That guy was messed up enough as it was. I'm not the kind of person who takes advantage of someone in a situation like that."

"Michael!" Bishop's rebuke was sharp, the look on his face conveying the unspoken, _watch what you're saying._

But Benson picked up the ball without a second's hesitation. "Messed up how."

"Like I said, he was really tired and he seemed a little drunk or maybe stoned. He looked okay when they first got there and Justin introduced him to everybody. He was kinda quiet and a little shy, but I think Justin was the only person he really knew and, considering what he was about to do, I figured he was pretty nervous.

"It's part of my job as house medic to keep a close eye on things during the ceremony -- mainly to make sure nobody gets too enthusiastic, if you know what I mean, but also to make sure the initiate is okay through the whole thing. We had a full house that night, so I was keeping an even closer eye out than usual. I started to get a little concerned toward the end because he was looking a little shaky, but Justin was right there with him and gave me a thumbs up when I started to come over, like everything was fine."

"So you thought David was 'shaky' and 'messed up' toward the end, but you let it go on anyway? If you're a doctor, sorry, going to be a doctor, why didn't you stop it when you saw what bad shape he was in?"

Michael was silent for a moment, a war clearly raging over his rugged features.

"Don't say anything, Mike. They're just rattling your cage," Bishop said through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, Mike. Don't say anything," Stabler mocked, the chill in his voice filling the room with ice. "That way we can take you downtown for questioning. But don't worry, we'll make sure you get a cellmate who enjoys partying as much as you do."

"God dammit, why are you trying to make me the bad guy in all this?" the blond exploded. "Justin is his boyfriend, he was right there during the whole thing, and he didn't see any reason to stop it. Why are you trying to lay this on me? I didn't do anything wrong! In fact, I was the only one who did anything to help that guy. I cleaned him up that night, read Justin the riot act to leave him alone, and when I took him home the next day, I made sure he had all the stuff he needed to take care of himself."

Benson and Stabler looked at each other, a raised eyebrow the only visible sign of their surprise.

"You took David home the next day?" Stabler asked.

"Yeah. I woke up early needing to go to the bathroom, and when I came out I saw Justin's door open and David come staggering into the hallway half dressed. He looked really wasted, like he didn't even know where he was. I went over to him and asked him if he was all right. He nodded his head and said he wanted to go home, but the way he was looking around, I didn't think he even knew where he was to get himself home.

"I told him if he'd give me a minute to get some clothes on I'd take him home. He said he needed to go to the bathroom, so I showed him where it was and left him there while I went and got some clothes on. Then I went to Justin's room to get the rest of David's clothes and the bag of medicine and stuff I'd left for him. I tried to wake Justin to let him know what was going on in case he wanted to go with us, but he was totally out of it, so I finally gave up.

"When I got back to the bathroom, David was just standing there. It was obvious he'd thrown up and he was pale and a little shaky. He said he didn't know what had happened to the rest of his clothes and his shoes so I handed them to him. I helped him get cleaned up, checked to make sure there wasn't any fresh bleeding and put some fresh ointment on him, then helped him get into his clothes. He said he was thirsty so I got him a bottle of water.

"Then we went out to the car. He told me where he lived and I took him home. I tried to talk to him a little in the car, but he was really out of it and didn't give me much more than grunts for answers.

"When we got to his place, I walked him up to his apartment, got the door open for him and walked in with him to make sure he got himself settled okay. I gave him the bag with the medicine and stuff in it, told him what he needed to do to take care of himself and left him a card with my number in case he needed any help with it. He nodded like he understood everything I said, but he kept looking around like he didn't recognize the place.

"He was acting like he was seriously hung over, so I told him he should probably go to bed. He said okay then started looking around, really puzzled, like he didn't know where the bed was. So I took him into the bedroom, helped him get his pants and shoes off and helped him into bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow. I was a little nervous about the way he was acting, so I waited a few minutes to make sure his breathing was normal. It was, so I came back to the house and went back to sleep myself for a couple of hours."

Benson and Stabler were staring at him speculatively, and he squirmed under their steady gazes. "Look, if that's it, I really need to leave for class now."

"That's more than enough for now," Stabler said, "but I'm sure we'll have some follow-up questions later. Your name is Michael, right? Michael what?"

"Jensen, Michael Jensen."

Stabler wrote the name down in his notepad. "And where can we reach you later, Michael? You got a cellphone?"

"Yeah," the blond responded unhappily and rattled off the number.

"Thanks for your cooperation," Benson said as Jensen strode toward the front door and let it slam behind him.

"Hey, don't you need my number too," Peterson directed hopefully at Stabler.

Benson didn't miss Bishop's muttered 'idiot' and suppressed a smile as she said, "Sure Gregg, give us your number. You too, Pete. I'm sure we'll have plenty more questions for both of you later too."

* * *

"That certainly put a different spin on things," Benson said when they were back in the car.

"It doesn't change anything, Liv. Even if David seemed to be participating willingly in the make out sessions with Justin -- and everything else -- it's only because of the drugs Justin slipped him. He wouldn't have done it if he'd been in his right mind. And it seems pretty evident he **was** drugged from what Jenson told us about the way he was acting the following morning."

"How can you be so sure of that, Elliot?" she asked quietly, a frown creasing her forehead. "You hardly know the kid. For all you know, it was the vodka Justin fed him during the party that made him get sick."

"You read the reports of the interviews Munch and Fin did with the administrators. Every one of them says the same thing. David Gallagher is a nice, polite kid, never a hint of trouble, quiet, studious, always doing charitable work like building houses for Habitat for Humanity and tutoring disadvantaged kids, no disciplinary actions, hardly ever misses a class, 3.9 grade point average, natural leadership qualities, although he leads by example from the sidelines inside of being the guy at the front of the room. His being a willing participant in something like this just doesn't make sense."

"This wouldn't be the first time we've seen a supposedly good kid relieving the stress of trying to please the adults around him with sex and drugs."

"Who does he have to please, Liv? He's got no family left. What difference would it make to anybody but himself if he gets straight A's or straight F's. No, this kid is trying to make something out of his life. He wouldn't screw that up by getting involved with those party boys. I can feel it in my gut."

"I hope your gut's right, Ell, because mine is a little queasy right now. It's not liking what it's hearing at all. There are too many inconsistencies."

"We've got two hours before we're supposed to pick David up at the hospital. Let's see what else we can find out at the school. David mentioned he and Justin had a class together. I want to talk to the professor, see what kind of vibe he was getting from the two of them, maybe find out who David's friends are, get the dish from them on what they thought of the relationship."

Benson shrugged, "Sounds like as good a place to start as any."

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5**

After getting the information they needed to find the professor from a very helpful and solicitous Lisa Carlson, the detectives made their way to the Humanities building. When they approached the professor's office, they found the door wide open and the man they had been seeking sitting with his back to them at a desk piled high with books and papers. Stabler gave a quick knock on the doorframe to alert the professor to their presence.

The man jumped at the sound before swinging his desk chair around toward the door. A tousled head of thinning hair that had faded to a silvery white capped a weathered face set in lines of worry and distraction. Faded blue eyes turned to meet theirs as he said, "I'm sorry, but office hours ended five minutes ago and I have a deadline on this book proposal . . . ." The professor's voice trailed off and his mouth formed into an o of surprise when he saw the two detectives standing there. "So sorry, I thought you were one of my students. May I help you with something?"

"I hope so," Stabler said flashing his badge. "Are you Professor Louis Dellacorte?"

The man's eyes went even wider behind the thick lenses of the wirerimmed glasses set on his nose, as he said with evident surprise, "Yes, I'm Lou Dellacorte. You're the police? Oh dear. What's happened? It's not my wife is it? Is she all right?"

"We're not here about your wife, professor," Benson said. "We were hoping you could help us with an investigation we're working on. Do you know David Gallagher?"

"David? Yes, of course. A fine young man. One of my best students. He definitely takes after his parents in the brains department."

"You knew his parents?" Stabler asked with interest.

"I started in the department about a year before they were killed. What a terrible tragedy. I had several lovely conversations with them both individually and together. Incredibly bright people. And they doted on that little boy. Called him their miracle child. Vic told me once that Linda kept having miscarriages and they'd just about given up hope of ever having a child the normal way when David came along. He was around 7 the one time I met him back then, but I was struck even then by the intelligence shining from his eyes. He's grown into quite a remarkable young man."

Suddenly realizing he should be wondering why they were asking about David, the man asked with concern, "He's not in trouble, is he? He's such a good natured soul, I can't imagine him causing trouble for anyone."

"Why not?" Stabler asked. "Every kid gets into trouble sometimes. It's natural."

"Perhaps. I just find it hard to believe David would do anything bad enough to involve the police. He's a good-hearted kid who'd give you the shirt off his back in the middle of a blizzard."

Stabler couldn't help smiling at the analogy. "What about Justin Graves?"

"Justin? Oh dear. I'm afraid it's much easier for me to believe he's in some kind of trouble. He's a bit of a wild child, that one. I was surprised to see that he and David seemed to be developing a friendship -- their personalities are such polar opposites -- but I hoped being around David might have a calming influence on Justin. It never occurred to me it would go the other way. Has Justin gotten David into some kind of trouble?"

"Both boys were involved in an incident at an off-campus party that's under investigation," Benson said, without further elaboration.

"It's not that fraternity party with the orgy everyone's talking about, is it?" Dellacorte said with dismay. "I've been hearing rumors there's a very graphic video floating around."

"We're not at liberty to discuss the details of our investigation," Benson replied automatically, "but we'd appreciate it if you'd answer some more questions for us anyway."

"If it will help David, of course -- I'll tell you anything you need to know."

"You seem to know a lot about David," Stabler said. "Can you tell us who his friends are? Does he have a girlfriend . . . or boyfriend we could talk to?"

Dellacorte's jaw dropped in surprise at the phrasing of the question, but he recovered quickly. "As far as friends go, it's hard to narrow it down. David gets along well with everyone. Whenever I see him on campus, he's usually in a group of at least three or four people. He's involved in most of the social service activities, so he spends a great deal of time in groups working on those projects. But as far as close friends go, he usually comes to class and leaves with Jessica Langford, and most of the time Nick Devlin is with them.

"As for a significant other, . . ." the man shrugged, "I've been teaching here for a number of years and it's usually easy to tell who's interested in whom, who's more than interested and sometimes even when they've actually done the deed. I've sensed some strong chemistry between Jessica and David, but nothing that would make me think they're anything more than close friends at this point. There's no one else in my class he seems attracted to in that way."

"What about Justin?"

"If you're asking whether I think David might be attracted to Justin, I'd have to say not at all. In fact, I've never gotten the impression that David was gay, although I don't really know him well enough to say for sure. Now that I'm thinking about it, though, Justin has been following David around like a devoted puppy the last few weeks. It's very possible that he's gay, and, if so, he may have developed a crush on David. David is one of the few people who is always kind to him and takes the time to listen to what he has to say, so I can see how he might misread more into David giving him that attention than is warranted. David's that way with everybody though, and, personally, I never sensed he had any greater interest in Justin than simple friendship."

"You said Justin being in trouble wouldn't surprise you - why do you say that?" Benson prodded.

Dellacorte sighed heavily. "Justin is the polar opposite of David in every way, not just personality wise. I assume you've seen him. He's short and slight and, except for the red hair and freckles, not really the type most people notice in a crowd. As a result, he has a bit of a Napoleon complex -- he does things to draw attention to himself and they're not always the wisest or the most prudent things. As an example, it wouldn't surprise me at all to find out Justin was involved with that sex video, but David? Never. Not after . . . ."

Realizing what he'd started to say, the man abruptly went silent and flushed guiltily.

"After what?" Benson prodded.

When Dellacorte didn't respond immediately and continued to look uncomfortable, Stabler said, "We already know about David's past. You're not breaking any confidences talking about it."

The man relaxed slightly but still looked as if he wished he could change the subject. Finally he continued, "After what that poor boy went through, the terrible things that were done to him, I can't imagine him having anything to do with something like that video."

"He talked to you about what happened to him while he was missing?"

"A little. In class I spend a few weeks covering the Greco-Roman era and every year there's always someone -- this year it was Justin -- who tries to liven up the class discussions by bringing up the homosexual sex and orgies that are the fodder of so much of the media entertainment depicting that era. Some of the material we cover is very graphic simply because that's the way life really was back then.

"David came to my office after Justin brought the subject up in class. He was very disturbed by it. He knows I'm one of the people who's been here long enough to remember what happened to him, and I think that's the only reason he felt comfortable talking to me about it. He said reading one of the novels and looking at some of the artwork in the textbook reminded him of things that had happened to him while he was 'away' - that's what he calls it, 'the time he was away'. I told him if the readings were upsetting him, he didn't have to finish the rest of the assignments for that section, we could come up with an alternate assignment for him that involved less disturbing material. He seemed relieved I was willing to accommodate him and agreed that was a good solution.

"Before he left I suggested he speak to his therapist about the memories that were being dredged up and his feelings about them, and he said he would. I don't know if he ever did though. And when it came time to discuss the alternate assignment, he said he'd thought it over and changed his mind. He said he'd be okay doing the same work as everybody else. And he said something else that surprised me a bit because I thought it showed an incredible amount of maturity for a young man who'd been through as much as he had."

"What was that?" Stabler asked.

"He said he didn't want what happened when he was away to define him - to separate him or make him different from everyone else. He didn't want it to keep him from doing the things everyone else took for granted - even if that meant something as simple as being able to read the same books and do the same assignments as everyone else in class.

"I told him I had a lot of respect for him for feeling that way, but I reiterated my advice that he discuss the issue with his therapist - that dealing with it alone and allowing it to fester was not good for him. He thanked me for my concern and said he would."

"He sounds like a pretty special kid," Benson commented.

Dellacorte sighed heavily. "He is. He was still a small child when he disappeared but he came back, at least emotionally, a full-grown man. That experience changed him, made him face things about himself and about the people around him that most people don't even realize exist, let alone have to face, until they're much older. It scarred him in some ways, but made him stronger in others.

"And he told me it made him realize the things that are really important in life aren't the material ones, but the emotional and spiritual ones. He came to believe that every person can make a difference -- sometimes a very big one -- in someone else's life just by caring enough to reach out and help them, even if it's in a very small way. That's why he's so heavily into service activities like Habitat and tutoring. It's his way of giving back to those who helped him by passing that same kindness on to others in need."

"Where do you think he came up with such a wise philosophy?" Stabler asked.

"His parents laid the foundation, of course, but I think his foster parents, the Spencers, had a lot to do with it too. They were very good people who'd spent most of their lives fostering abused and neglected children, so they knew what kind of problems to expect when ACS asked them to take David in. I understand it was a very difficult adjustment at first, but the one thing they absolutely refused to let the boy do was wallow in victimhood. They pushed him to take control of his own life and make it count for something. And he's made the effort to do just that. But after they died, he had to work the rest of it out on his own." The man went silent for a moment, clearly weighing whether he should say what else he was thinking.

"Professor, we're trying to help David, not hurt him. We need to get inside his head to figure out how best to do that."

"Very well," the man said with a sigh of resignation. "David and I had another discussion a few weeks later. We were talking in class about morality and ethics and how the concepts were applied during different eras of history. He came to me after class again because his question related to his past and that's not something he ever discusses in front of the others.

"We talked for about an hour. David told me a little more about what happened to him during those missing five years, particularly the final months before he was rescued. He was struggling with the moral and ethical issues surrounding his feelings toward the man who called the police to report he had been left in the mall - I believe his name was Kristian."

Stabler froze for a moment at the mention of the name, then gritted his teeth and continued writing in his notebook.

"David was vague about how he ended up with the man, and I didn't press, but it was clear their relationship involved sexual abuse. Despite that, David had very conflicted feelings about him. He said everyone told him Kristian was just as bad as his first foster father, the one who kidnapped him, but, even though he knew intellectually that some of the things Kristian had done to him were just as wrong as the things his foster father had done, in his heart, he believed there had to be some good in the man. David was having a hard time accepting that Kristian could still be a bad person, when he had been the one to save him - and in fact had been the only one to show him any kindness or do anything to help him during the entire time he was away.

"David believes Kristian took a big chance by calling the police and making sure he got into safe hands, instead of just giving him back to his foster father like he was supposed to. He believes if Kristian hadn't taken that chance for him, his foster father would still be abusing and prostituting him today. He doesn't believe he ever would have been strong enough to escape on his own. I think that's one of the reasons he tries so hard to help others in need. He wants to make a difference in other people's lives the way Kristian did for him."

"That's a pretty heavy load for him to be carrying alone," Stabler said in a carefully neutral voice, restraining the anger that had surged through him at the thought of David considering his abuser to be some kind of hero. "What did you tell him?"

"I'm afraid the subject matter was quite a bit out of my league, but I did the best I could. I told him moral and ethical issues aren't that clear cut -- that's why there's so much argument about them. Most people aren't simply good or bad -- they fall somewhere in between on the scale. Some of the finest, and normally most upright people can be capable of the most heinous acts if pushed hard enough, while some of the most evil ones can occasionally be capable of surprising acts of kindness. I'm sure you see many examples of that in your line of work.

"Anyway, I suggested again he talk to his therapist to help him work through those issues. He said again that he would. That was about three weeks ago. He hasn't been by to see me again since then."

"Thanks for your help, Professor," Benson said holding out one of her cards to him. "I'd appreciate it if you'd call me if you think of anything else that might be useful."

"Of course. I'll be happy to help in any way I can. And if you see David, please tell him my thoughts and prayers are with him."

"We will," Benson said.

"Oh, one more thing, Professor, if you know," Stabler said casually.

"Yes?"

"You said you knew David's parents and they were devoted to him. Do you have any idea why they didn't name a guardian for him in case of their deaths? I understand they were in their forties when they had him so it wasn't a stretch of the imagination that they could die before he reached maturity. Why would they take a chance like that?"

"Such a tragedy," the man responded, shaking his head sadly. "They did name guardians, their best friends, in fact -- Matt and Susan Phillips -- the four of them were inseparable. Even though they spent so much time together and often traveled together, I don't think it ever occurred to Vic and Linda that Matt and Susan might die in the same accident they did. Such a terrible, terrible tragedy."

* * *

"What do you think, Ell?" Benson asked as the detectives exited the building and headed for their car. 

"I don't know," Stabler responded with frustration. "The more I find out about these kids, the cloudier the picture gets. David's the boy next door, Justin's the wild child. What could those two possibly have in common that would be the basis of any kind of friendship."

Benson's response was casual, although she cast a considering look at her partner as she spoke. "Maybe it's not something obvious."

Stabler narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "Like what?"

Benson met her partner's eyes and held the gaze. "Maybe George Huang is right, maybe Justin was molested as a child too and that's what drew David to him - kindred spirits. Maybe David saw in Justin the only other person he knew who could understand what it was like to have your childhood stolen like that."

"Maybe," Stabler said dismissively, but it was clear he wasn't buying that theory and his mind was somewhere else entirely. "How much time is left before we need to pick up David?"

"A little over an hour."

"Let's see if we can get addresses for the two kids the professor mentioned. If one of them lives close by, we might be able to squeeze in a short interview before we have to head over to the hospital."

A quick call to Lisa Carlson got the detectives the local addresses for Jessica Langford and Nick Devlin.

"Jessica's just around the corner," Benson reported. "Nick's in off-campus housing a couple of blocks away."

"Let's try Jessica first. If the professor is right about there being 'chemistry' between her and David, I'm interested to see how she felt about having Justin added to the mix."

* * *

When the door to Jessica Langford's apartment opened, the detectives were startled to see that the petite blond with wide green eyes who'd opened it was crying. 

"It's about time you got here, Gert," the girl hiccuped between sobs before she saw the two detectives. "Oh my God! I'm so sorry! I thought you were somebody else," she said with embarassment, quickly wiping at her sopping cheeks with her hands.

Benson pulled out a small packet of tissues she kept handy for such emergencies and handed it to the girl.

"Thanks," the blond muttered as she wiped her face and blew her nose.

"We're sorry to disturb you, but we're looking for Jessica Langford. I'm Detective Benson and this is my partner Detective Stabler," she added as she flashed her badge.

"Oh my God!" the girl shrieked, fresh tears filling her eyes. "The police! Where's David? Is he okay? Did that bastard hurt him?"

"It's okay," Benson said in a soothing voice as she exchanged speculative looks with her partner. "First of all, are you Jessica?"

The girl nodded as she swiped at several stray tears with shaking hands.

"Okay, Jessica," Benson said. "Would you mind if went inside to talk? We're attracting a bit of attention out here."

The girl looked up in surprise to see that several doors along the hall had opened at her shriek and there were girls either poking their heads out or standing by their open doors with arms crossed over their chests looking concerned. "Oh, sorry, sure. Come in," she stammered, moving out of the way so the detectives could enter.

"Please, tell me. Is he hurt? Is he . . . is he dead?" she pleaded, her eyes filling with fresh tears as she signalled the detectives to sit on the sofa while she took the armchair opposite them. "I've been calling every hour since I heard about the video yesterday and no one answers. I even tried going over to his apartment earlier, but he wouldn't answer the door.

"Gert said all the boys on the video are being expelled. It would kill David to get expelled. He loves this school. His parents taught here." She started to cry again, "I . . . I'm so afraid he might have done something to hurt himself."

"It's okay, Jessica," Benson soothed, leaning over and patting the girl gently on the shoulder. "David's going to be fine. He's in the hospital right now, but we're going to pick him up from there in a little while. He has to come with us to answer some questions, but he should be home by 5 or 6 tonight."

"He's . . . he's okay?" the girl hiccupped through sniffles as though not believing what she was hearing. "Wait, you said he's in the hospital. Why? What happened? What did Justin do to him?"

The detectives looked at each other, unsure how to answer the question without giving too much away.

"David's going to be fine, Jessica," Stabler reassured her, "but can you tell me why you think Justin's the reason he's in the hospital?"

"That sneaky, despicable little snake!" Jessica raged. "Everything was fine until he came along and insinuated himself into our lives. David is such a nice guy. Always willing to take in the strays. But I could see from the beginning that something wasn't right about Justin. I'd catch him looking at David sometimes and the look on his face . . . ." She gave an involuntary shiver, "That look just gave me chills.

"I told David a couple of times he needed to be careful around Justin, but David just shrugged it off. He said Justin acts out sometimes because he's lonely and he just needs somebody to pay attention to him once in awhile. David is always so sweet like that, he can't stand to see anybody suffering. And he's especially empathetic with people who are alone, like he is. He felt bad for Justin because he's an orphan too. Even though Justin's got an uncle who took him in, the uncle's always out of town on business, so he spends most of his time alone. David understands what it feels like to be that alone."

"Jessica," Benson asked carefully, "have you seen the video? Do you know what's on it?"

"Not yet. I'm not sure I want to. Gert said it's awful. When she first told me it was an orgy, but it was all guys, and that David was part of it, I wouldn't believe her. David's not gay. I'd know if he were. She's supposed to be bringing a copy over now so I can see for myself."

"You might not want to do that, Jessica," Stabler said gently. "We can tell you for certain that David is on the video. And your friend Gert is right. It's pretty awful and it's not something you're going to want to have replaying in your head for the rest of your life. Especially not if you want to be there for David to help him get through this. The next couple of days, actually more like the next couple of months are going to be very difficult for him."

"Elliot," Benson made the word a warning.

But Jessica had already connected the dots. Her hands flew to her mouth and she shrieked again, "Oh my God! They raped him, didn't they. And Justin was behind it. I just know he was. That bastard!"

Benson stared at her partner in shock, then turned to the distraught girl. "Jessica, we're still investigating. It's too soon to know exactly who did what to whom. No one," she gave her partner a pointed look, "is ready to use the word 'rape' yet and we'd appreciate it if you didn't spread that word around until we're sure. Right now we're investigating the possibility that drugs and alcohol may have been a factor in what happened at the party."

Jessica was staring at the detective, hands shaking as she tried to process what Benson had said. "Justin drugged him, didn't he. I knew David would never do anything like that by choice, not after what happened to him when he was a kid. It made him uncomfortable about sex. He doesn't even like anyone touching him without permission, and he gets really nervous whenever he knows someone is behind him and he can't see what they're doing. He'd never willingly have sex with a bunch of other guys, especially guys he doesn't know."

"Jessica, it would be a really big help to us if you could tell us why you're so sure Justin is responsible for what happened," Stabler said.

"Because things were going fine before he came along, then everything changed. David and I met during freshman orientation three years ago at a sign-up table for the first Habitat for Humanity trip. There were a bunch of other people there too, and we stood around laughing and joking for awhile. Then we all went to the student center together to get something to eat. I ended up sitting next to David. We got to talking and discovered we had a lot in common. We became fast friends after that and have been ever since. We did everything together -- at least until Justin came along."

"What changed when Justin came along?"

"It was clear to me from day one that Justin wanted David all to himself. He went out of his way to say things and do things that would offend me when David was out of earshot so I wouldn't want to hang around them any more. I found myself starting to beg off when David asked me to go out with the group and Justin was going to be there. I got really mad at myself for letting Justin win, so about a week and a half ago, I finally confronted David about it. I told him to not even bother calling me if Justin was going out with us, that I wasn't going to put up with his crude and vulgar conduct any more.

"He got really upset and asked why I hadn't said anything before. I told him I was trying to keep him out of the middle since Justin and I so obviously weren't ever going to get along, and I knew he wanted to try and stay friends with him.

"David must have given Justin a piece of his mind, because the next day Justin came up to us at lunch all contrite and begged my forgiveness for being such a jerk. He said he had a big problem making friends and he didn't want to lose the few he'd managed to make at school. He begged me to give him another chance.

"I was furious. I knew it was a con. I could see the smirk lurking at the back of his eyes, but David was sitting there looking at me expectantly, knowing I would do the good and honorable thing and give him another chance. I knew I had no choice but to relent or I'd look like the bad guy, so I said fine. But I told him as a show of good faith he needed to back off for a little while and not be around us all the time."

"I could tell he was pissed at that, but I'd put him in the same box he'd had me in a few minutes before, so he had no choice but to agree and said he'd start right then. He turned around and stalked off. I knew he'd try and find a way to get back at me somehow, but I never expected he'd do anything to hurt David."

"Jessica, we have to ask you a couple of questions now that you might consider very personal. You don't have to answer them if you don't want to, but there's a reason we're asking and the answers might help us in figuring all this out," Benson said gently. "First, do you consider David to be your boyfriend?"

Jessica flushed with embarrassment. "I like David a lot and I'd like us to be together some day, but we've never used the terms boyfriend and girlfriend with each other. We spend most of our time together but there's never any kissing or hand holding or anything like that in public."

"What about in private?"

The girl's face flushed even brighter and she shot a quick glance at Stabler before looking away.

Taking the cue that the girl was embarrassed to talk about such things in front of a man, Stabler pulled out his cellphone and looked at it as if it had been vibrating and he were checking to see who the call was from. He said to Benson, "I've got to take this. Why don't you go on without me. Jessica, is it okay for me to go out on the balcony?"

"Oh, sure. Go ahead Detective Stabler," the girl said, her relief obvious.

When Stabler was safely ensconced on the balcony, Jessica leaned in conspiratorially, "I'm so glad he got that call. He reminds me so much of my uncle Ted, my Dad's brother, and I just couldn't imagine how I was going to talk about stuff like this in front of him."

"He should be on that call for awhile, so I think we're okay," Benson replied. "This shouldn't take that long."

"Okay," Jessica said and blew out a heavy breath. "You asked about what we do in private. Sometimes we make out a little but it's never gone past third base."

"Is that your choice or his."

The girl looked uncomfortable. "Look Detective, I'm not the kind of girl who sleeps around."

"I understand that," Benson said patiently. "But this is a boy you've liked, been friends with for over three years now, someone you'd like to really be your boyfriend. Anybody would understand if you were ready to take it to the next level."

"Yeah, I guess that's true," the girl said reluctantly. "But David's different than other guys. He had things, bad things happen to him when he was a kid. He's not sure he's ready to take that step yet. He's afraid it'll bring back all the bad memories and that might screw up our friendship."

"That's understandable, but you never know if you don't try."

Jessica looked uncomfortable again. "Look, are you sure this is going to just be between the two of us. I don't want David to be embarrassed or get mad at me, thinking I blabbed it all over."

"Of course," Benson said. "Just between us girls. I promise."

"Over summer vacation we went away together for a week to the Maryland shore. We figured we'd see if we could stand each other for a week and if it worked out, maybe we'd move in together this semester. David hadn't told me much about his past at that point. I think he was hoping it would just stay buried and he'd be able to go on with a normal life.

"Anyway, the first day we spent a lot of time on the beach and boardwalk so we were exhausted when we got back to the room. We sat up watching tv for awhile and started making out pretty hot and heavy. We ended up naked and I can tell you for a fact there was definite interest on his end so he's not gay."

Benson suppressed a smile at how emphatically the girl delivered that line.

"We cuddled up together and were exploring each other's bodies, just taking our time. We ended up falling asleep like that before we could go any further. I woke up in the middle of the night and heard the strangest sound like an animal whimpering. I turned on the light and David was curled up on the other side of the bed in a little ball making those sounds. I thought he was just having a nightmare, so I started to shake him to wake him up but he let out a little yelp, like a frightened animal, and tried to move further away from me. He ended up falling off the bed, but he still didn't wake up. He just laid there on the floor, naked, making that whimpering sound."

"I was totally freaked out. I didn't know what was wrong with him or what to do. I didn't know if I should call a doctor or what. So I got out of bed, grabbed my robe and put it on. Then I grabbed his robe and wrapped it around him. That seemed to calm him a little. So I laid down on the floor next to him and just held him and told him it was okay and everything was going to be all right. Finally, the whimpering stopped and his body relaxed."

The girl wiped a tear from her eye, "I never thought I'd be so happy to have a naked guy fall asleep on me."

Benson gave the empathetic smile she knew the girl needed to see to continue her story.

"I didn't try to move him. I was too scared of what would happen. I just pulled the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around us and held him. I didn't sleep all night. I just laid there watching him sleep, worried that if I drifted off, I'd wake up to that horrible whimpering again.

"When he finally woke up the next morning, he seemed all right at first, but when he looked around and realized we were on the floor and then took a good look at my face, he got really upset and started frantically asking me what had happened, what he'd done. I kept telling him he didn't do anything, he just had a bad dream, but he didn't believe me. Then he asked me if he'd hurt me; he had this look of absolute terror on his face when he said it that almost broke my heart. I told him 'no, of course not, I'm fine' over and over again.

"I finally got him to believe me, but he was still really upset. We got dressed and went to get some breakfast, but he hardly said three words to me the entire time and barely ate anything. I suggested we go for a walk on the beach because I know being by the sea and hearing the waves calms him. That's just one of those silly things you learn about somebody over time, I guess. You don't really think about it, but one day you realize you just know it. I know it's silly but it feels good to realize you have this little secret thing that only you know about the person you . . . you care about."

"I know what you mean," Benson said with an encouraging smile.

"Anyway, we walked for a long time before we found a quiet, secluded spot where it would be safe to talk. That's when he finally told me everything." Jessica wiped another tear from her eye. "It was so horrible, but it was such a relief at the same time. Do you know what I mean?" she asked casting a hopeful glance at Benson.

"Yeah. I do. You never want to think it's your fault that someone you love is hurting."

"Exactly," the girl said with relief. "I didn't want those terrible things to have happened to him, but I also didn't want what happened the night before to be because of something I did, or didn't do, or did but didn't do right."

"Of course," Benson said, nodding sympathetically.

"Anyway, I could tell by the way he was holding himself when he told me -- his back was really straight and he was so tense he was practically vibrating -- that he expected me to turn and run away screaming or at least yell at him for not telling me before and stomp away in a huff. But I didn't. I put my arms around him and held him while we both cried. I felt so awful for him. He was so little when that man took him. He must have been so frightened and so lonely -- and it must have hurt so much.

"I'm sorry," Jessica said wiping her face again and blowing her nose loudly. "I can't bear to think about it. It makes me cry every time I think about those terrible people hurting him like that. He's such a good person. He'd never deliberately hurt anyone. Sometimes I wonder how he managed to stay such a good person with all the terrible things they did to him. But he is a good person. I can see it in him every time I look at him."

"I'm sorry for having to make you go through this Jessica," Benson said, her voice trembling with compassion. "I know how difficult it must be for you. But it's been very helpful for me to hear it and we're going to do our best to help David. I promise you that."

Jessica gazed at her intently, looking for signs it was a lie. Seeing only truth on Benson's face, she nodded her head and said, "When you pick him up, tell him I'm here waiting for him. That I love him and I intend to be there for him through this -- whether he wants me there or not."

"You can tell him yourself. I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

"No. Please tell him. I know David. He's going to be embarrassed and ashamed that this happened. He won't want to face me. Please tell him what I said so he knows I know already, so he knows he doesn't have to be embarrassed or ashamed. That I still love him."

"I will," Benson promised, choking back the tears gathering in her own throat.

A sudden knock on the sliding glass door to the balcony startled both women before they realized it was Stabler, who made a motion as if asking if it was okay to come back in yet. Benson motioned her partner in and he opened the door and stepped through.

"Everything okay?" he asked looking from Benson to Langford and back again, frowning slightly at the signs of tightly reined in emotion around his partner's eyes and mouth.

"Yeah," Benson said. "I think we're almost done here. Just one more question, Jessica. You said you just found out about the video yesterday. You haven't talked to David this week?"

The girl cast her eyes down in shame and shook her head. "I left last Thursday night to go home for a funeral - my grandmother died. I talked to David briefly Friday afternoon, but with all the family stuff going on, I didn't have a chance to call him again until I got back on Wednesday night. I was a little surprised when he didn't call me back right away, but I thought maybe he was busy studying and had the volume turned down on the answering machine. Then Gert called and told me about the video yesterday afternoon, and I realized why he wasn't calling me back. I kept trying to reach him but he kept not answering.

"I feel so awful that I wasn't there for him, to help him through this, or even to stop it from happening in the first place. I'm sure the minute Justin heard I was going to be out of the picture for a couple of days, he set up the entire thing. The little weasel probably figured he could drive me away with this stunt and then he'd have David all to himself. Well it's not going to work. And when I get my hands on Justin, I'm going to kick his scrawny little ass from here to Alaska."

"I have one question and I apologize if you already covered this with Olivia," Stabler interjected, trying to hide a smile at the image the girl's passionate words invoked, "but it's obvious you don't like Justin, that you haven't liked him all along. So why was David willing to stay friends with him?"

Jessica hesitated for a minute before answering. "Like I told you before, David's a nice guy and he felt really bad for Justin because his parents are dead just like David's and he's such a social misfit, he's always alienating people. David knows what it's like to be lonely so he has a special place in his heart for lonely, disconnected people."

She took a deep breath, "I think it's more than that though. David never said so directly, but I got the feeling from some of the things he said that he felt for Justin for another reason. I think Justin might have been abused when he was a kid too. I don't want to think about it, because I feel like I have to be less angry at him because of that, and I don't want to be less angry at him. If he was abused, it certainly can never justify what he did to David. In fact, it makes what he did even worse because he has to know how much it would hurt David to have to go through something like that again."

The detectives were silent for a moment before Benson finally said, "Thanks again, Jessica. We really appreciate you taking the time to talk with us. And if you need anything, anything at all, please give me a call." She handed the girl her card then gave her a quick, comforting hug before turning to follow her partner toward the door.

Just as they reached it, there was a loud, insistent knocking. The two detectives' hands moved automatically to their weapons, as Jessica went to open the door. It was barely halfway open, when a tall, thin brunette barreled through, waving something that looked like a dvd in her hand.

"Here it is, Jess. Are you sure you really want to see it? It's so awful! I couldn't believe it when I realized David was in it. And some of the other guys in it - I can't believe they're all gay. What a total waste!"

The girl finally stopped talking when she realized there were other people in the room and stood there with her mouth open and a slow flush spreading up her face.

Benson thought the girl was a little too excited by the prospect of the awfulness of the video, and was amused when Stabler stepped forward and snatched the disc from her hand saying with a tight smile, "Thanks Gert, but she's sure she doesn't want to see it. I'll take it instead."

The detectives walked out of the room to the girl's perplexed cries of, "What? Who? What just happened? Where's he going with my dvd?"

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6**

"It looked like things were getting pretty intense in there, Liv. You okay?" Stabler asked, shoving the dvd in his coat pocket as they headed back to the car.

"Yeah. She's a lot tougher than she looks. I'm admiring her a lot more than I ever thought I would considering what a mess she was when we first walked into the room. She said she and David are close friends. They made a try for lovers that didn't work out so well -- ghosts from his past and all that. She wants to try again, but she's been giving him some time to work through his issues.

"She really loves him, Elliot. It surprised me how much she really does love him. I can't imagine loving someone so much that you could overlook something that bad, that awful about their past. Even with my job, knowing it's not the victim's fault, I don't know how I'd react to finding out something like that about a guy I was involved with. I don't know if I could be that supportive or understanding."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Liv. You see the bad, the mind-numbingly awful every day at work. There's nothing wrong with not wanting to deal with it at home too."

"I guess," Benson said unhappily, as she looked at the strain on her partner's face and realized with a pang of sorrow how much the comfort and reassurance of his normal family life had meant to Elliot. With Kathy and the kids gone, there was no longer a buffer to keep the horrors they faced every day from consuming him. "What's next?"

"I called the hospital to see if David's ready for us. They decided to run a few more tests on him, so it'll be another hour before we can pick him up. Want to take at run at Devlin in the meantime?"

"Sure, why not?" Benson responded.

* * *

The detectives drove the few blocks to Nick Devlin's apartment in silence. Benson stared out the window but barely noticed as the campus buildings gave way to a cozy middle class neighborhood of twin homes, many of which had been converted into duplexes, triplexes or quads to accommodate the college's increasing need for student housing. 

Stabler stopped the car in front of a slightly dilapidated twin and double-checked the address. "It looks like he's got the top floor apartment. Let's see if we can find a bell."

They climbed the three steps to the stoop and examined the series of bells on the wall by the door.

"They managed to squeeze five apartments into each side of this place?" Benson said in disbelief. "Talk about efficiencies. I bet they can hardly turn around in the rooms."

"I guess there are still some college kids out there who are so happy to be out of mom and dad's place, they'll take what they can get," Stabler responded indifferently as he pushed the bell marked 'N. Devlin.'

A few moments later they heard the sound of a window open above them and a voice shout down, "Yo! Who is it? Whaddaya want?"

The detectives stepped down from the stoop and shielded their eyes as they looked up to see a deeply tanned man in his early 20s with wavy, shoulder length, jet black hair leaning out of an open third story window. His arms and torso were bare, displaying an athletic, muscular body and a tattoo of two intertwined snakes that started on his chest and moved up to his shoulders then down his arms until the snakes' heads came to rest just above his wrists. The dark hair on his chest and arms gave the impression that the snakes were hiding in underbrush. Combined with the garish tattoo, small droplets of water glistening in his hair and on his body gave the man an unearthly appearance.

"Sorry to interrupt your shower," Benson said, flashing her badge. "Are you Nick Devlin?"

"Yeah. You really a cop? What do you want with me?"

"Mind letting us up and we'll tell you," Stabler said with a tight smile as he flashed his own badge. "We wouldn't want to get you in trouble with your neighbors with all this shouting."

"Oh, yeah, right. Good idea," Devlin said distractedly as his head disappeared from the window. They could momentarily see him glancing around the apartment in dismay before he disappeared from view.

A few minutes later they heard the sound of feet pounding down the stairs inside, then the front door flew open. Devlin had pulled on a pair of faded jeans and a sleeveless t-shirt featuring a scantily clad woman touting the virtues of one of the national sports bar chains.

"Come on up," he said, nervously running a hand through his damp mop of hair. "You'll have to excuse the mess. I wasn't expecting company."

Benson shook her head lightly and rolled her eyes at her partner as they followed the man up the stairs.

It was clear from the state of the apartment that he really hadn't been expecting company. Empty plastic cups and beer cans were tossed haphazardly around the room. The remnants of chips and pretzels were ground into the carpet and the air was heavy with the scent of cigarette smoke along with the slightly sweeter, more pungent odor of something a bit stronger than cigarettes.

"Must have been quite a party," Stabler commented, pushing a beer bottle out of the way with the toe of his shoe.

"Yeah, it was. My birthday was yesterday. I'm finally 21," Nick beamed. Then his face fell. "This isn't about the party, is it? Did somebody complain about the noise? Most of the houses around here are student housing so I didn't think we'd have any trouble."

"No. You're fine," Stabler said. "This is actually about a different party. You hear anything about a particularly wild party last Friday night?"

"One that made it to video?" Benson added.

Nick's smile disappeared completely. "Man, I don't know nothing about that. I was nowhere near there. I like to party but not that kind of partying. That's twisted, man."

"You know any of the guys who did attend the party?"

Devlin looked away from them uncomfortably and muttered, "I told you, I don't know nothing about it. It's not my scene, man. I need to get ready for class now."

"We're sorry to keep you, Nick, but we have just a few more questions," Benson said with a reassuring smile. "You're not in any kind of trouble so there's nothing for you to worry about. We know you weren't at the party. We've seen the video. You've seen the video, haven't you?"

"Well, um, I, that is . . . ," Nick stammered, unsure which answer was going to cause him the most trouble.

"You had a party last night, Nick," Stabler said reasonably. "Copies of the video are all over campus at this point. I'll bet somebody thought it would be fun to play it at the party last night. Right?"

"Well, yeah. We didn't do anything wrong just watching the thing, did we? It was just meant to be some harmless fun. I didn't realize . . . I mean, I didn't know . . . ."

"You didn't know what, Nick?" Benson prodded.

"I didn't know who was in it," Nick said sheepishly. "If I'd known it was people we actually knew . . . ."

"People like David Gallagher," Benson prodded.

"Shit!" Nick spat out, running his hand nervously through his hair again. "Look, I don't know what you people want, but I'm not going to say anything that will get David in trouble. He's a good guy. When I saw him on that video . . . I . . . I just couldn't believe it.

"The people at the party, they were all laughing and making fun of what was going on. Making all sorts of queer jokes, that kind of thing. I tried to act like it wasn't bothering me, but when it got to the part near the end where Justin and the other guy were doing him at the same time and then Justin . . . he B you know the part I mean, I can't even say it B I went in the bathroom and threw up. I had to cover by telling everybody I had too much to drink. Shit, just thinking about it makes me want to hurl again."

"So David is a good friend of yours?" Stabler asked.

"We're pretty tight -- not like on the video, not that kind of tight," Nick flustered, realizing that was the wrong expression to use.

"We know what you mean," Benson soothed. "Just good friends, right."

"Yeah," he said with relief.

"How long have you been friends?"

"We met freshman year during one of the pre-meetings for the Habitat trip. David and Jess were there along with a few other people. The three of us had a lot in common so we started hanging out together a lot. We took most of the same classes that year."

"And what about now?"

Nick shrugged. "It got a little uncomfortable for me being around them. David's a great guy and Jess, Jess is just the best." His expression softened as he said the girl's name and he got a faraway look in his eyes.

"You like Jessica - a lot," Benson said.

Nick blushed guiltily. "Yeah, but it was clear from day one that she only has eyes for David. I thought I could hang in there and just be friends with them, but I realized by the end of last year that it was just too hard knowing I could never even have a chance with her. So this year I backed off. I made sure we only have one class in common, that way we can still hang out a little and do some studying together occasionally, but I've also got a part-time job and this place, so I had lots of excuses to beg off without it looking weird.

"And then Justin came along. That guy gave me a serious case of the creeps from day one. And I could tell Jess couldn't stand him either. But I decided I'd better stay out of it. It wasn't any of my business. I guess now I know why David kept the little turd around. Turns my stomach to even think about it. Why would any guy in his right mind give up a great girl like Jess to do another guy -- although I guess technically the other guys were doing him B but still. It's crazy ass shit, man.

"I keep wondering if she knows yet and if she's okay. I know she went home for her Grams' funeral. I guess I should find out if she's back yet. This is the last thing she needs on top of losing her Grams."

"We just came from her place," Benson said. "She's a little upset right now, but she'll be fine."

"I should probably call her, let her know I'm here if she needs anything," Nick said hesitantly.

"I'm sure she'd appreciate that," Stabler said drily, "but right now we have a couple more questions."

Devlin sighed dramatically, "Like what, man?"

"You said Justin gave you the creeps. Any particular reason?"

"When school first started he sat in the back corner of the classroom. David, Jess and I sat together a couple rows away and closer to the front. A couple of times I turned around to talk to one of them or to look out the window or something and caught Justin staring at us. He had the most intense look on his face."

"Then one time after he finally came over and started talking to us and then moved to a seat closer to us to be part of the group, he left his notebook behind when he rushed out to chase after David and Jess. I grabbed the notebook so I could give it back to him, but it slipped out of my hand and fell. A bunch of newspaper clippings spilled out of it. I only saw them for a second but the top one was about some kid who'd been kidnapped. The kid in the picture could have been David's younger brother it looked so much like him.

"I went to pick them up and take a closer look at them, when Justin came running back into the room and started yelling at me to leave his stuff alone. I apologized real quick and said I saw he'd left the notebook behind and was just going to bring it to him, but it fell when I went to pick it up. He grabbed the clippings real quick and shoved them into the notebook and tried to apologize for overreacting, but I'd already seen the look on his face when he was yelling at me, and I wasn't buying it for a second.

"That guy is seriously disturbed and I didn't want anything else to do with him after that. So I started making even more excuses not to be around. If I knew Justin definitely wasn't going to be there, I'd hang out with David and Jess, but if Justin was going to be there, no way."

"Did you ever see any signs of a relationship between David and Justin other than just friends?"

"No, but I wasn't looking. It never occurred to me David would be stupid enough to cheat on Jess, especially not with another guy."

"So even though you're crazy about Jessica, you wouldn't have noticed David paying extra special attention to someone else, even if it was another guy?" Stabler asked skeptically.

Nick shrugged. "When you put it that way, I guess I would have. But even going over it in my head again, I can't remember David doing anything that looked weird or suspicious. Jess told me they had some problems over the summer and I could tell they weren't as close, but I knew she was determined to work it out. I never saw any signs that David was interested in anybody else or playing the field.

"But Justin -- Justin was always doing strange things, always trying to get attention. And he was always trying to worm his way between David and Jess. It never occurred to me it was anything sexual though. I thought he just wanted to replace her as David's best friend. The whole thing is seriously screwy. Just thinking about it gives me the creeps."

"Did you ever see David or Justin drink or do drugs?" Stabler asked.

"Not when they were around me. David's a pretty straight arrow - well, at least I thought he was. I guess it's pretty obvious from that video I didn't know him as well as I thought I did. But I never saw him drink anything stronger than beer and he never took drugs as far as I know, not even a little weed. I never saw him looking wasted or stoned either.

"As far as Justin goes, who knows? Even though I never actually saw him, I could easily believe he'd drink, do drugs, do just about anything if it would get him some attention. I mean, just look at that video. He's at the center of the shot for practically the entire thing and is constantly doing stuff to draw the viewer's attention to himself."

"That's an interesting observation," Stabler said.

"I'm a communications major," Devlin said with a shrug. "I'm planning a career in tv or movie production, so I notice camera angles and focal points of shots and things like that."

"Since you notice things like that, do you think Justin is playing to the audience in the room or playing to the camera?" Stabler asked.

Devlin considered for a minute. "It's hard to tell without being able to see where the audience is. It could be both. He definitely knows the camera is there and where it is. Every once in awhile you'll see him look towards it and smile. He's careful to never look directly at it, though, which makes me think he's taken some acting or theater classes himself."

Benson exchanged quick glances with her partner. "I think that's it for now, Nick," she said with a thin smile. "If you think of anything else that might be helpful to us, please give me a call," she added, handing him her card.

"Okay," Devlin said hesitantly. "You know, you never told me exactly what it is you're investigating about the party, so how will I know if anything I think of is useful?"

"We're investigating an alleged sexual assault," Stabler said without embellishment.

"Sexual assault? Who?" he responded blankly. "They're all having sex on that video and it didn't look to me like anybody was unhappy about it."

Stabler just smiled. "Let us know if you think of anything."

"Okay. Hey, um, do you think it's okay if I call Jess? Let her know she's got a shoulder to cry on if she needs it?"

"Sure," Benson said with a disgusted shake of her head as she strode as quickly as she could out the apartment door.

* * *

"He's certainly a piece of work," Benson said when they'd reached the sidewalk. "He's so intent on being Jessica's white knight he didn't even make the effort to put two and two together. As far as he's concerned, David's out of the way and that's all that matters." 

"Yeah, David doesn't seem to have the best judgment when it comes to male friends," Stabler responded thoughtfully. "First Nick, who's so obviously interested in Jessica, then Justin who's so obviously interested in him. Makes you wonder how anyone, especially someone with his history, could be so naive."

"I don't like the sound of that, Elliot. What are you thinking?"

"If David really was hesitant about taking the next step in his relationship with Jessica, maybe he built in some safeguards to make sure it would fail."

"That's pretty cynical, even for you."

Stabler glanced over at his partner as he opened the driver's side door, "It's a theory, Liv. We toss out theories and see if they fly. This one hasn't crashed on me yet."

"Yeah, me either," Benson responded unhappily as she got in the car. "Let's get to the hospital."

* * *

Benson knocked on the closed door to David Gallagher's hospital room and heard a muffled, "Come in." The detectives entered the room to find the young man sitting in the guest chair buttoning the last of the buttons on his badly rumpled shirt, with only his shoes and socks left to put on. 

"Hi, David. I'm not sure if you remember us from yesterday. I'm Detective Benson - Olivia Benson and this is my partner Elliot Stabler."

"Yeah, I remember you," David said, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Sorry I was so out of it when we first met. It was a pretty intense day."

"How are you feeling?" Benson asked.

Gallagher hesitated for a moment before responding, "I'm okay. Still a little sore, but that'll pass. The doctor gave me some stuff to keep it from hurting as much til it's all healed."

"David, do you remember our conversation last night?" Stabler asked. "Do you know why we're here today?"

"You're investigating what happened at the party," Gallagher said absently, turning his gaze away from them to concentrate on putting his socks and shoes on. You want me to come downtown with you to talk about it."

"That's partly right. Do you remember what Justin told Dean Jacobs when the two of you were in his office?"

"No . . . not really. I was pretty upset. The Dean showed me the video, then he was yelling at me and told me I was getting expelled for what I did at the party. I don't remember much of what was said after that. I sort of remember Justin coming in at some point, but I was already on overload, so nothing he said made much sense to me."

"Then you don't remember Justin telling Dean Jacobs he slipped something in your beer to help you relax the night of the party?"

"No. I don't remember that. Like I said, I was pretty out of it. Seeing the video . . . the Dean being so angry and disappointed in me . . . the prospect of being expelled . . . it totally blew my circuits. All I could think was 'what am I going to do, where am I going to go?' Elmhurst is all I have left of my old life. My parents taught there. It's the only place left where I feel any connection to them. The thought of having to leave there and start over again someplace else just fried my brain. I couldn't think about anything else."

"Do you remember the night of the party, David?"

"Some of it," he responded hesitantly.

"You told us last night you started feeling funny after Justin gave you a beer. Do you remember telling us that?"

"Yes."

"And you told us you didn't remember anything else until you woke up the next morning in bed with Justin. Do you remember telling us that?"

"Yes."

"Have you remembered anything else about what happened in between your getting the drink and feeling sick and waking up the next morning in Justin's bed?"

"No. But I guess the video says it all, doesn't it."

"Not necessarily. David, did you ask Justin to give you drugs or did he offer you drugs while you were in his room?"

"No, not that I remember."

"Would you have taken them if he did?"

"No. I . . . I don't mess with drugs. Not ever. When I . . . when I was growing up, I saw too many people who were out of their minds from that shit. People who did awful, terrible things because they were stoned or going through withdrawal or just needed money to get their next fix. I never want to be like that."

"Then if you wouldn't have taken drugs even if they were offered to you, do you believe it's possible Justin slipped you the drugs without your knowledge to get you to do things you normally wouldn't do at that party."

Gallagher had been looking at them with a stony expression on his face as he answered the previous questions, but now put his head in his hands and started rubbing at his temples. "I . . . I don't know. If he said he gave me something, I guess he did. I didn't want it. I didn't ask for it."

"David," Benson broke in dropping to one knee in front of him and forcing him to look into her eyes. "If Justin hadn't given you something, would you have willingly gone to that party and done all those things on the video."

"What difference does it make now?" David snapped in frustration, his eyes full of pain. "It's over and done with. I can't undo it. I just have to live with it now."

"You already have an awful lot to live with," Benson said softly, watching his head sag lower as he realized they knew about his past. "There was nothing you could do back then to punish the people who hurt you, but you don't have to just let it go this time, David. If Justin drugged you to make you do those things, it's a crime. You have to press charges against him so we can arrest him and put him behind bars, where he can't do the same thing to somebody else."

"I . . . I don't know if I can," he responded in a voice tight with suppressed emotion. "I don't remember what happened. I was going to stay home and study, but maybe Justin convinced me to do it and I just don't want to remember."

"Do you really believe that, David?" Stabler said, stepping forward and crouching beside his partner in front of the young man. "Do you really believe Justin could have convinced you to do those things willingly? We talked to Jessica earlier."

The boy flinched as though he'd been slapped at the mention of the girl's name.

"She told us you don't like to be touched, that you don't like strangers coming up behind you."

Benson reached out to take one of David's hands as Stabler spoke, but he jerked back instinctively before she could make contact.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, "I . . . ."

"You don't like strangers to touch you David, I understand," she said softly. "So do you really believe there's any way you would have let Justin talk you into doing the things on that video with all those strange men - all those strange men who were coming up behind you and touching you in the most intimate places - would you really have allowed that if you'd been in your right mind?"

"No," the word was barely a whisper yet filled with so much pain, Benson felt her heart constrict in her chest.

"Then let us take you to the station and you can file a complaint against him." Stabler said. "We'll put him in jail where he belongs, where he can't hurt you or anybody else that way again."

The young man nodded wearily, his eyes shadowed with pain and sadness, as he pulled himself to his feet to follow the detectives out of the room.

* * *

The sound of enraged shouting reached their ears the minute they exited the room. Stabler instinctively reached for his gun when he recognized the voice. "Stay here with David," he said sharply to Benson, giving her a significant look and noting her answering nod that she recognized the voice too. 

"It's Justin, isn't it," David said quietly, his face draining of color.

"Just stay back, stay behind me," Benson responded. "Elliot's not going to let him get near you."

Stabler absorbed the brief exchange with the part of his mind that was busy assessing the tactical situation in case there was a fight. The rest of his brain was concentrated on locating the source of the shouting voice, which seemed to be the central nurses station just around the corner. As he drew closer, he flicked the safety strap off his holster and laid his hand on his weapon.

". . . want to see him right now! You have no right to keep me from him!" the shouting voice raged, followed by a woman's voice stating firmly that the shouter needed to leave or she would call security.

"What seems to be the problem here?" Stabler boomed in his most authoritative voice.

Justin turned to confront this new enemy, his hands clenched into fists at his sides in fury, as he started to shout, "This fucking bitch won't let me see . . . ." He stopped cold and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw Stabler standing there with his hand resting on his gun.

"What are you doing here, Justin?"

The nurse interjected quickly, "He was asking for David Gallagher, Detective. When I told him David wasn't accepting visitors, he pitched a fit."

"Is that true, Justin?"

The redhead glared defiantly at him and didn't respond.

"I seem to remember telling you last night that David doesn't want to see you and you are to stay away from him. Didn't I make myself clear?"

"My lawyer said you can't tell me where I can and can't go or who I can see. I'm not under arrest for anything, so you can't tell me what to do."

"Correction, you're not under arrest **yet**," Stabler said, his cold eyes burrowing into the redhead's. "I intend to rectify that situation shortly."

"Bullshit! I'm not afraid of you, and I'm not leaving until you let me talk to David."

"David doesn't want to talk to you, you've been advised by the nice nurse that your presence is no longer welcome here, and hospital security is on the way up to escort you out of the building. But if you want to continue this little tirade with them, I'll be more than happy to stick around a few more minutes and arrest you for defiant trespass. Nothing would make me happier than to be able to toss you into a nice cozy cell with some of the lesser elements of society. I'm sure they'd have a lot of fun with a pretty little boy like you. But I almost forgot, that is your idea of fun, isn't it?"

Justin's face turned beet red with fury and his hands were clenched so tightly into fists, Stabler expected to see blood start seeping from them any second. "You fucking nazi! I know what you're up to and you're not going to get away with this," Justin snarled. "David and I love each other. You can't keep us apart. We'll find a way to be together no matter what you try to do to us."

Stabler's cold cop eyes never left Justin's face as the boy defiantly tried to stare him down. The detective's unblinking gaze never wavered in the few additional moments it took hospital security to arrive. Justin was finally forced to break the gaze when one of the security guards grabbed his arm.

A cold, satisfied smile spread across Stabler's face as he flashed his badge at the guards. "Stabler, Special Victims Unit. Could you please escort this young man off hospital grounds immediately. If he gives you any trouble, call me on my cellphone right away," he added, handing one of the men his card. "I'll be more than happy to arrest him for defiant trespass."

"Sure," the guard responded sullenly before turning to Justin. "Let's go, kid. It's time to let these nice people get back to work."

"Fuck you, asshole!" Justin snarled.

Stabler pulled out his handcuffs and began tossing them casually in the air, the self-satisfied smirk still pasted on his face.

Graves gave him one more hate-filled glare, then turned and stalked down the corridor flanked by the two security guards.

Stabler waited until they disappeared into the elevator before allowing the smirk to dissolve into a frown of concern.

The nurse looked at him apprehensively and he forced a half smile back onto his face. "You shouldn't have any more trouble from him. My partner and I are taking David Gallagher with us. If anyone calls asking about him, just tell them he's been discharged. If Justin does give you any more trouble, call the station and we'll arrest him."

The nurse nodded acknowledgment, and the detective turned and headed back towards David's room.

When he turned the corner Benson was still standing like a shield in front of Gallagher with her hand on her weapon. "Is he gone?"

"For now," Stabler said. "But on the way downtown I think we need to have a serious discussion about filing for a restraining order," he directed to David.

The young man nodded uncertainly, then asked hesitantly, "I don't mean to cause you any more trouble, but could we stop at my apartment before we go to the station? With everything that's been going on, I missed some classes and a meeting I was supposed to go to about this year's Habitat trip. I'd like to check my messages -- and maybe change into fresh clothes, if I could."

"Sure," Stabler replied, secretly relieved to have an excuse to check how secure the apartment was before allowing Gallagher to return there alone that night.

* * *

As they pulled up to the apartment building and got out of the car, the detectives noted it was a six story box-shaped structure with a brick facade. Although the building appeared to be 50 or 60 years old, it was freshly painted, with newer model storm windows throughout, and was surrounded by a carefully tended lawn accentuated by some bushes and colorful fall flowers. 

When they entered the building, they checked to make sure the buzzer system was working properly and the locking mechanism on the security door was in good repair and latching properly before heading to the elevator.

They rode in silence until the elevator stopped at the fifth floor. Gallagher led them around the corner to his apartment - 518. As he started to put his key into the lock, they heard a voice from behind the door. Stabler quickly elbowed David away from the door and grabbed the key from him with one hand as he pulled his weapon with the other, then motioned the startled young man to get behind Benson. He quickly turned the key in the lock and went through the door, gun at the ready.

The agitated voice was unmistakably Justin Graves', but it was harsh and grainy. It took Stabler only a moment to realize he was hearing the teen's voice through the answering machine, not in person.

". . . call me back right away, David. Please! You've got to talk to me! I can't believe you're really going to do this to me after all we've been to each other. I can't believe you'd let them put me in jail after I put everything on the line for you. Please call me. We can work this out. I . . . I love you." There was silence for a moment as if Justin were hoping David would pick up the phone, then a click as he hung up and the answering machine disengaged.

Stabler turned to see his partner relaxing from her covering stance behind him and Gallagher framed in the doorway, a look of anguish and misery on his face.

"Why does he keep saying stuff like that?" David's voice was distant and numb. "I just don't understand. I don't understand what's happening. Maybe I'm wrong and this is all just a big misunderstanding. How can we be sure if I don't remember what happened? How can I ask you to put him in jail if I don't know for sure?"

"He's trying to manipulate you, David," Benson said. "Play on your sympathy. You can't let him get away with it."

"Christ," Stabler muttered as he examined the answering machine.

"What is it, Elliot?" Benson asked with concern.

"The answering machine counter says there are 27 messages. How much you want to bet all of them are from him."

"Don't forget Jessica said she's been calling practically every hour since yesterday."

"She has?" David said, clearly surprised.

"Yeah," Benson said. "She's really worried about you. You should call her and let her know you're okay."

"I . . . I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because she'd know it's a lie and she'd want to rush over here to help."

"Maybe you should let her. Jessica asked me to tell you that she knows about the video and that she still loves you and is there for you. She wants to help."

"No. Not after everything that's happened. I can't put her through that. She deserves better than this. Better than me."

"She seems like a pretty level-headed young lady to me," Stabler said. "And pretty strong-willed too. I don't think she's going to appreciate you making this decision for her."

"It's for the best. Can we go now?"

"I thought we came here so you could get changed?"

David looked down at his rumpled clothes as if just seeing them. "Oh, right. Yeah. I guess I should do that," he said, moving toward the bedroom.

"Is there a battery backup in this?" Stabler asked.

"What? David responded from the door to his bedroom.

Stabler pointed at the phone/answering machine unit.

"Oh, yeah, there is. Why?"

"I'd like to take it in with us. See what the messages are. If most of them are from Justin, it might help us in getting the restraining order."

"Whatever you want," David responded dispassionately and disappeared into his bedroom.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7**

Casey Novak strode triumphantly into the SVU bullpen and headed directly for the conference room, fumbling with the latch of her briefcase as she moved. She had it open by the time she reached the conference room door and had pulled a file out of it by the time she reached the table.

"Where's my complaint?" she barked.

Stabler handed her the document and she scanned it quickly, doublechecking that all the required signatures were in place, then smiled like a lioness preparing to do battle.

"Good. Here's your search warrant for the fraternity house," she said shoving the document across the table to Stabler. "And your arrest warrant for Justin Graves," she added passing that document to Benson. "And just to prove I'm really getting in the holiday spirit, I submitted the TRO papers and got an emergency hearing set for first thing tomorrow morning. Depending how quickly you're able to pick up Justin and whether he's granted bail at his arraignment, it may end up being unnecessary, but from what you told me about the way he's been acting, I think it's better to play it safe on this one."

"Excellent!" Capt. Cragen boomed, grinning from ear to ear as he began barking out assignments. "Benson and Stabler will lead the search detail at the frat house with Munch and Tutuola as back up. Hopefully you'll be able to pick the kid up there but, if not, hammer the other guys until they tell you where to find him. I want that little bastard in a cell by nightfall."

"Yes, Captain," the detectives replied almost in unison, as they began rising from their seats.

"Captain," Stabler added, "If we don't find him by nightfall, we should probably post someone outside David's building in case he tries to make contact again."

"I'll keep it in mind, but since we know we'll have a shot at him at the TRO hearing tomorrow morning, I'm not sure I can spare the overtime on the basis of some harassing phone calls. Do we think his conduct might escalate?"

"I can't rule it out," Dr. George Huang said. "Right now Justin seems intent on appeasing David, fixing the situation with him. Restoring the love relationship he believes exists. You can see from the content of the phone messages that the more David refuses to talk to him, the more insistent Justin becomes that they have to talk. He's supremely confident of his ability to manipulate David into accepting any story he comes up with as long as David allows a conversation to take place.

"Justin needs to exert control, wield his own special kind of power -- his power of persuasion. If David continues to rebuff him, continues to reject his attempts to manipulate him, Justin may lose control and lash out at David for refusing to accept that control, for basically rejecting him and his 'love'."

"How's David holding up?" Novak asked. "I"m going to need him to testify at the TRO hearing tomorrow. Can he keep it together?"

Huang looked thoughtful for a moment. "It's hard to say. He seems to be okay right now, but I'm troubled by what Elliot and Olivia told me about his breakdown at the school. The fact that he seemed childlike part of the time -- that worries me a bit. If David's been burying the memories of the time he was kidnapped instead of dealing with them, the stress of this situation and the amount of pressure he's under to testify about what happened to him might dredge up even more memories of that time. That could lead to extreme fear, depression, sleeplessness or, if he does manage to sleep, nightmares.

"The thirteen year old who was left at the mall was actually better equipped psychologically to deal with what's been happening to him. The adult David is far enough removed from that abused child, and has buried those memories deep enough, that he no longer remembers how to cope with the levels of stress and fear he's experiencing now. If the situation continues to escalate, another disassociative break is very possible."

"Then we definitely need to keep Justin away from him tonight, Captain," Stabler said.

"I'll have to crunch some numbers to see if I can squeeze out the overtime," Cragen said with a heavy sigh.

"Who said anything about overtime?" Benson said casually and received a grateful smile in return.

"Where's my complainant?" Novak interrupted.

"He's in the Captain's office studying," Stabler replied. "I'll go get him. Are you sure you don't mind staying with him til we get back? I'm worried about leaving him alone while Justin's still on the loose."

Novak smiled, but her eyes were tinged with worry. "It's not a problem. We have a lot to go over to get him ready for the TRO hearing. I'm not sure we'll even be done by the time you get back."

"If it wouldn't be an intrusion, Casey, I'd like to sit in on your meeting with David," Huang said. "I have a conference scheduled with his psychiatrist later this afternoon, but hearing what he has to say now might give me better insight into his state of mind."

"It's fine with me," she responded, "as long as he doesn't mind."

* * *

It was just after 4 p.m. when Benson and Stabler directed their team to the various entrances of the frat house before moving to the front door. Benson hammered on it three times, shouting, "Police! Open up!"

They tensed at the sounds of running feet and frantic whispering behind the door.

Stabler took a turn pounding on the door, "Open up before we break it down."

The frantic whispering ended with a muffled, "Fuck! I don't believe this shit," from behind the door, then there was the sound of the lock being turned and the door was pulled open by a very dazed looking Gregg Peterson; Peter Bishop was standing behind him glowering.

"Yo, Detectives, what's the deal? No need to be banging so hard. I was coming." Peterson was trying for casual and unconcerned, but he couldn't hide the shocked surprise in his eyes when he saw the half dozen officers accompanying them.

Bishop stepped forward and pushed Peterson out of the way. "What's the meaning of this? What do you think you're doing?"

Stabler illustrated he was in no mood for the pre-law student's bravado by pressing the search warrant against his chest as he announced, "Gentlemen, we have a warrant to search these premises, and we have another warrant for the arrest of Justin Graves. If you try to stop us from executing either, you'll be arrested for obstruction."

"Where's Justin?" Benson snapped.

The men looked at each other and she registered in their eyes the exact moment they realized this was no longer a game and they were in serious trouble.

"He's not here," Peterson said nervously. "I swear. We've been waiting for him to come back all day so we can ream him out about all the trouble he's caused."

"Yeah, we were going to give him til the end of the week to move out," Bishop added sullenly. "We were only trying to have some fun. We never wanted this kind of trouble."

"Life's a bitch sometimes," Stabler snapped contemptuously. "Now tell this officer who else is in the house and where they're located. We want everyone gathered in one room where they'll be interviewed while we conduct the search. We have teams at the side and back entrances to keep anyone from leaving. One of you take an officer to those doors to let them in."

"Where's Justin's room?" Benson asked.

"Second floor. From the top of the main staircase it's the third door on the left," Peterson mumbled unhappily.

"We'll take Justin's room," Stabler said to the assembled officers, as he pulled on a pair of gloves. "I want someone with the residents at all times. None of them are to leave until we're finished, no matter what sob story they try and give you. Find out what they know about Justin's habits - where he likes to go, hang outs, places he goes to think. The rest of you spread out in the first and second floor rooms. Make sure someone checks the third floor for Justin but save it for a full search later. I don't want our guys spread too thin. You know what to look for. Radio Benson or me if you find anything."

As the officers turned away, he activated his radio, "Munch, Fin."

"Waiting not so patiently outside the kitchen door," came Munch's slightly annoyed voice.

"Someone's on the way to let you in. The guys in charge say Justin's not here, but don't take any chances. Keep someone outside each exterior door to make sure no one tries to enter or leave. Liv and I are going upstairs to start on his room, and our team is spreading out on the first and second floors and checking the third. Have one of the frat guys take you to the room where the assault took place and start your team there. If the camera's in a separate room, make sure you hit that one first. They've probably cleaned it out already, but see if they missed anything. If you've got anyone to spare, send them upstairs to help out."

"Our guide's here now. We're on it," Munch responded.

Benson and Stabler watched their team disperse efficiently throughout the house as they made their way up the front stairs. When they reached Justin's door, Stabler pounded on it. "Open up! Police!"

When there was no response, he tried the knob and found the door locked. The two detectives pulled their weapons, as Stabler pounded again. "Open up, Justin, or we'll break it down!"

The detectives waited ten seconds, then Stabler aimed a solid kick at the door near the lock. There was a splintering, cracking sound before the lock gave way and the door flew open. Stabler entered the room with his weapon at the ready, while Benson covered him from the doorway. Stabler quickly checked the closet and under the bed, but there was no sign of their fugitive. Benson went to the window and found it open about an inch despite the chill air outside. The storm window and screen were both up.

"Look at this, Elliot. He's probably been sneaking in and out this way to keep anyone from seeing him."

"Yeah? Well we can stop that easily enough," he said with a malicious grin, as he went to the window, lowered the storm window, then closed the inner sash and locked it.

"I'll take this side of the room," Stabler said. Why don't you start on the dresser and closet?"

"Okay." Benson moved to the dresser and began opening drawers, running her gloved hands through the clothing to see if anything was hidden underneath.

Stabler moved to the small desk under the window and started opening drawers. "We'll need to take his computer in, see what we can find on it," he said absently as he rifled through the drawers.

Finding nothing relevant in the desk, he moved to the small bedside table. "Well, well, looky here," he said as he opened the drawer. "We've got us a regular pharmacy."

"What's there?"

"A bunch of prescription bottles with his name on them - some antidepressants, valium, a few different antibiotics. Wait a minute. . . . Well, our boy isn't as dumb as he looks after all."

"Really? That's hard to believe."

"The prescription bottles are a cover. What's actually in them is not what's listed on the bottle."

Benson glanced over just in time to see a wide, triumphant grin split her partner's face. "And look what's in this one."

"What is it?" she asked, but the smile was already spreading across her own face because she thought she already knew.

"Looks like roofies to me. Pass me an evidence bag so I can tag this stuff for analysis."

The detectives worked in companionable silence for another ten minutes before Benson came out of the closet with a small wooden box in her hand.

"What's that?" Stabler asked, looking up with interest.

"We shall soon see," his partner said with a smile, "but look at the label that's been taped to the top."

Stabler leaned over to read it. "Our Life."

Benson sat at the desk and went to open the box. "It's locked."

"Don't break it unless you have to. Do you need a lock pick."

"No, I've got one. It's a pretty basic lock. It shouldn't be a problem."

A few moments later she lifted the lid and stared.

"What's in it?"

"Looks like memorabilia - ticket stubs from movies, ball games, the theater; match books from hotels and restaurants; hotel room card keys, that kind of thing. They all have dates on them."

"Anything local that might indicate a favorite hang out, someplace we could look for him?"

"Give me a few minutes to sort it out and I'll tell you."

Silence fell over the room again as the two detectives continued working.

"Eww," Benson said a few minutes later.

"What?"

"A condom wrapper."

"What?"

"There's a condom wrapper in here."

"Is there a date on it?"

Benson turned the wrapper over, her face twisted into a grimace of distaste. Then her eyes widened in surprise. "Shit."

"What?"

"The date he wrote on it - it's from last Friday."

"The ultimate trophy. I'm surprised he didn't keep the condom itself."

"Eww, I don't need that picture in my head, Elliot, thank you very much," Benson said, shaking her head in disgust.

Stabler had finished with the bedside table, so he got down on his hands and knees to check under the bed - some shoes and a few stray items of clothing, but nothing else. He stared at the bed for a moment then began stripping the sheets and blankets from it, checking inside the pillow cases. It was when he started lifting the mattress from the boxspring that he finally hit paydirt.

"Olivia!"

"What?"

"Grab that while I hold the mattress up."

Benson crossed over to the bed and leaned over to pick up the scrapbook and notebook that had been shoved between the mattress and boxspring. Stabler dropped the mattress back in place and took the books from her.

"Bingo!" he said with enthusiasm as he opened the notebook and several news articles that had been printed from microfiche started to slide out.

"Is that the notebook Nick told us about?"

"I think so. Look." Stabler held up a clipping with the headline 'Boy Missing for 5 Years Found Alive and Well'. There was a headshot of a boy who appeared to be 7 or 8 years old next to the article.

"Hmm. I'd say that looks enough like David to be his younger brother. I still can't believe Nick has been friends with David for three years and doesn't know anything about the kidnapping."

"I think it's pretty clear Nick is only interested in David as a means to get to Jessica."

"What are the rest of the clippings?"

"One about the kidnapping itself. Hmm, this is interesting. It's an obituary. Looks like it might be for his father. Ralph Mitchell Graves, prominent businessman, civic leader, active in the community, blah, blah, blah."

"Guess they forgot the part about pedophile."

"We don't know that for sure yet."

"Come on, Elliot. This kid's behavior screams 'abuse'."

"Sorry, but you're not going to get any sympathy from me on this one, Liv. David was abused and he's not running around pulling this kind of crap. Justin had a choice about what he did to David. He made the wrong one. And now he has to pay the price for it. End of story.

"This one's about the accident that killed his father. Says he was on medication that made him drowsy; he lost his balance, fell down the steps and broke his neck. Tacked on at the very end is the sentence, 'Tests indicate that consumption of alcohol in conjunction with the medication may have contributed to the accident.' Sounds like daddy dearest had a drinking problem. Seems the fall happened late at night. Justin found him dead at the bottom of the steps the following morning."

As if reading her partner's mind, Benson said, "Pretty convenient accident if the father really was an abuser."

"Yeah," Stabler answered absently. "The book itself looks to be some kind of journal. Not a full fledged diary, but random thoughts and ideas."

Stabler leafed through the notebook while Benson continued sorting the items from the memorabilia box.

"Look at this Liv. All the sudden, starting from this page onward, every page has this at the top."

Benson leaned over to look. "Can anyone say 'obsessed,'" she said giving her partner a troubled glance as he kept turning the pages, each of which had 'Justin & David, together forever,' written at the top. "At least he didn't put a little heart around it," Benson added, "then I'd really be scared."

"We need to get this stuff to Casey. It'll be a big help in the TRO hearing."

"What's the other one."

Stabler put down the notebook and picked up the scrapbook. The first page held Justin's birth announcement and hospital baby picture. The first few pages contained photos of Justin as a child - some alone, some with family members or friends. A careful hand had added the names, dates and locations of the subjects under each picture. About the time Justin turned 7 the contents of the book changed. Instead of pictures featuring Justin with family and friends in homey settings, the pictures were only of Justin and his father taken in exotic locales. The handwriting changed to a child's barely legible scrawl.

"Wait a minute, Ell. Some of these dates and locations correlate with stuff that's in the box." She went back to the neat piles of items she had started making on the desk which had been sorted by date. "Here's a hotel card key that matches the dates of the Hawaii trip, this pack of matches is from the France trip. It looks like he kept something from every place he went with his father."

"So by 'Our Life' he meant him and his father, not him and David?"

Benson shrugged, "Maybe once his father died, he felt the need to replace him. Then he found David."

"Yeah, then he found David. But exactly when did he find David?" Stabler asked thoughtfully.

"At school," Benson replied.

"I don't think so, Liv. Look at this. There's another section after the trip photos."

"Newspaper articles about David's kidnapping and recovery."

"Yeah, but look at them. Most of the ones about David's recovery aren't printouts from microfiche like the ones in the journal. They're actual clippings from the newspapers themselves."

"Wait a minute. You think Justin knew David back then?"

"I don't know. But he obviously knew about him. Why else would he have collected the clippings and put them in the book."

"Maybe he saw the stories about David's recovery and felt a connection to him when he read about the abuse he suffered. He could have become obsessed with finding David so they could share their experiences. That would certainly fit with George Huang's theory about Justin seeing David as his twin or soulmate."

"Maybe," Stabler muttered as he peered intently at one of the clippings. "Wait a minute. Where's that clipping about his father's accident?" Stabler found the clipping in the journal and placed it next to a clipping about David's recovery. "Look at the dates, Liv. Justin's father's 'accident' was less than a week after David was recovered."

"Maybe Justin was inspired by David's story to get rid of daddy dearest."

"Could be. I think we need to get copies of this stuff to Huang right away. I'd like his take on it. I want to know just how unstable Justin is right now before we risk leaving David alone tonight."

"Is there anything else in the scrapbook?"

Stabler turned several more pages until he passed the last of the newspaper clippings and reached another section of photos. "Oh yeah." He turned the book toward Benson so they could look together as he flipped the pages.

"Now I'm scared," Benson said.

"Justin just started at Elmhurst this year, but some of these shots are older than that."

"Do you think he took them himself or got somebody else to do it for him?"

"No way to tell. We'll see if the lab can come up with anything."

Stabler turned another page and Benson let out an emphatic, "Holy shit!"

"What?"

"He followed them to Maryland."

At her partner's blank look, she said, " Oh sorry, you weren't there for that part of the conversation. Jessica told me she and David went to Maryland together for a week this summer. These pictures are obviously from that trip."

"Except she isn't in any of them."

"He photoshopped her out. Look how the background here isn't quite right. And here."

"We need to find out exactly when the trip was, see if there are any trophies in the box that correspond to those dates."

Their conversation was interrupted by their radios flaring to life. "Elliot, Olivia, it's Munch. We need you down in the basement right now."

"On our way," Stabler responded as he slid each of the books into an evidence bag and labeled it while Benson did the same with the wooden box and its contents.

* * *

An officer met the detectives at the bottom of the basement steps and led them through the main basement area, a large open space that had been fully finished into the greek styled playroom they recognized from the video. As they followed the officer around the corner and into a maze of storage areas at the rear of the basement, Stabler was grateful for Munch's foresight in sending the man to guide them. Finally the officer stopped in front of a door which had been deliberately camouflaged to blend into the surrounding wall and knocked on it briskly.

"What've you got?" Stabler asked as the door opened and he and Benson joined Munch, Tutuola and O'Halloran in a mid-sized storage room packed with electronic equipment and lined with audio and video storage units.

"We got lucky," Fin replied. "Those idiots really believed we'd buy their bullshit story about getting rid of the camera and tapes. I don't think it ever occurred to them that we'd actually search the place, or, if we did, that we'd find this room. Did you see the statue they had pushed in front of the door?

"Anyway, it looks like the camera and recording equipment haven't been touched and there's a cabinet full of videotapes and dvds that, from the handwritten titles, are from past parties. The other cabinets are commercial videos and music cds -- most of it pirated copies."

"Is the tape from the last party still in there."

"Yep."

"That doesn't make any sense," Benson broke in. "This looks like a regular camera to videotape set up to me. I don't see a dvd recorder in here. If the original tape is still in the machine and hasn't been touched, where did the copies come from?"

"I asked myself the very same question," Munch said with a self-satisfied grin.

"It's a pretty elaborate set up. This guy knows what he's doing," O'Halloran chimed in excitedly. "Another feed directly from the camera would have been too obvious, so your natural inclination is to look at the vcr. Again you'd find nothing. With all the equipment hooked together in this room, who would bother looking at all the cabling, right? Lucky for you, me. It looks like our guy got a second cable, slid a t connector with a transmitter between the two segments, and, voila, he got to have his very own original recordings of everything sent to this vcr without anyone suspecting a thing."

"Where's the second recording unit."

"That's the hard part. Since there's no cable to track, we have to do a room by room search. There's a limited transmission range and we're most likely looking for a laptop computer with wireless access as the receiver, but it could be something else."

"It's possible he already removed it," Benson suggested.

"I don't think so," Stabler said thoughtfully. "If Justin is responsible for this and he thought he needed to cover his tracks, the first things he would have taken are the notebook, scrapbook and trophy box. Since they're still here, there's a good chance he hasn't removed the recording equipment either."

"Detectives!" came a shout from the direction of the basement stairs.

Benson and Stabler rushed out of the room and around the corner with the others at their heels. One of the uniforms was pointing to a small door behind the basement steps.

"It looks like it used to be some kind of storage room or wine cellar," the officer said. "The equipment's in here."

The detectives had to stoop to enter the small room and only two of them could squeeze in at a time. Benson and Stabler went in first and examined the setup. The only furniture in the room was a small tray table with a laptop computer perched on top of it. A portable rewritable dvd drive was connected to the laptop by a cord, and an empty container of dvds was on the floor underneath the portable drive.

Benson leaned over and picked up the container. "Label says it held 10 blank dvds."

Stabler looked around the room, a pensive expression on his face. "Jessica was right. He planned this. He set up the entire thing to get David on video, then he made copies to dvd and passed them around anonymously. He wanted people to see it, to turn against David."

"Then he could swoop in and be David's savior," Benson added. "The only one who loves him and understands him. The only one willing to stand by him in the midst of such humiliation and embarrassment. But why not just put it on the web. Why take the chance of distributing the dvds?"

"He probably thought it would be harder to find him that way. He may not have the hacking skills to cover his tracks effectively using the web. And as long as he was wearing gloves when he made the dvds, it would be very difficult to trace them back to him unless he handed one directly to somebody, which I seriously doubt. I'll bet they were left in mailboxes or tucked into books or backpacks of people he expected would enjoy the show and share it with their friends."

"He probably figured no one would suspect him since he'd be taking just as much heat as the other guys, maybe even more, for what was on the video."

"I'll bet it never even crossed his mind that David would turn against him," Stabler mused. "Or that Jessica would stand by him even after it became public knowledge that all those guys had done him."

Benson looked up. "Yeah, that part of it never made sense to me. Justin's so egocentric. Why make him run the gauntlet like that? Having the normal five guys do him, or even a couple more, would have been enough for the shock value he wanted and he would have held on to his own record. But that wasn't enough to rub Jessica's face in it, especially after she turned the tables on him during their last confrontation. He couldn't help himself. He had to stick it to her."

"I think we've found all we're going to find here," Stabler said. "We should leave Munch and Fin to finish up and get this stuff back to the house. We need to finish cataloging the contents of the box and cross referencing them to the entries in the notebook and scrapbook. Novak and Huang are going to need time to look through all of it too."

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8**

The detectives returned to the precinct just in time to find Novak and Huang packing up their files and preparing to leave.

"Where's David?" Stabler asked sharply.

"He was exhausted and wanted to go home and get some sleep, so we had a uniform take him about 10 minutes ago," Novak said.

"He shouldn't be left alone. We found some things in Justin's room that indicate a dangerous obsession. It looks like Justin's either been having David followed or doing it himself for a couple of years. There's a scrapbook with pictures of David that are several years old even though Justin only started at Elmhurst this year."

"Cragen ordered a car put outside the building until you got clear to take over. Let me see what you've got and maybe I can persuade him to dip into that overtime budget."

"Thanks, Casey. We really appreciate it. There's a lot we need to sift through here, but I'm not going to risk leaving David unprotected to do it."

Novak looked at him sharply. "If we're going to nail this bastard, I need to protect my star witness. And once Cragen sees this," she added, indicating the scrapbook she had been leafing through, "I'm sure he'll agree the overtime is warranted."

"Before I dive into this new evidence, I've got something for you, Detectives," Huang said.

"What is it?" Benson asked.

"I sat in on Casey's interview with David and I think it's very possible from some of the things he said that whatever drug Justin gave him triggered a disassociative break. I believe the reason for David's apparently consensual behavior at the party is that it wasn't 21 year old David at the party; it was the 12 or 13 year old David who had been trained to do whatever he was told with a smile on his face no matter what it was or how much it hurt. He would have been too afraid to resist or to ask for it to stop even if he'd been told he was allowed to for fear of being punished. If I'm right, there's absolutely no way he would have been able to say no to what was being done to him."

"So what does that do for us legally?" Stabler asked.

"Not much, I'm afraid," Novak said. "I don't think we'd get away with attempting to say it's statutory rape because he had the mind of a 12 or 13 year old at the time it was happening. And trying to argue some kind of diminished capacity on his part that should have been evident to the guys at the party - it's dicey. I'm willing to talk to my boss and try to come up with something if you really want to push it, but I don't think it's going to help us legally."

"Well, it helps me," Stabler said. "His behavior at the party is the one thing that's been gnawing at me, making me doubt him. That stops now."

* * *

David Gallagher followed Officer Johnson into his apartment and stood by the door while the officer did a quick check of all the rooms, then gave him back his key, said good night and walked out. David closed and locked the door behind the man and put on the security chain, then turned and scanned the room nervously again. He dropped his backpack on the chair by his desk and rubbed his weary eyes, trying to decide if he had the energy to do any more studying or if he should simply go to bed.

He heard a muffled ringing sound and fumbled in the backpack for the cellphone Novak had given him since he didn't have one of his own. She'd said it was to make sure they could reach him at all times, but it reassured him to know he would be able to reach someone quickly if there was a problem. Novak had programmed her own cellphone number, as well as Stabler's and Benson's into it. Although it was only a temporary loaner, the phone was a small reassurance in a sea of confusion and uncertainty.

David quickly pulled the phone out of the side pocket of the backpack and frowned when he realized it wasn't ringing. He followed the ringing into his bedroom and realized the sound was coming from the phone on his bedside table. It had no answering machine or caller ID unit attached, so there was no way to know who was at the other end of that insistent ringing. It might be Jessica or one of his other friends. Or it might be Justin again.

Gallagher stood beside the phone for a long moment before finally reaching his hand out tentatively to pick it up. "Hello," his voice sounded small and frightened even to himself.

"David! Thank God! Why haven't you returned my calls? We need to talk about what's been going on. What those nazi cops are trying to do to us."

Gallagher's heart thudded wildly in his chest and his mouth went dry when he heard Justin's voice come through the receiver. He swallowed painfully and forced himself to say, "We don't have anything to talk about, Justin. Not after what you did to me. How could you do that? How could you ever think I'd want you to do it? I told you I didn't want to go to that party. I told you I had papers to work on. Why did you do it?"

Justin was silent for a long moment and when he finally spoke again his voice was tight with hurt and anger. "It must be nice to have such a convenient memory, David. Only remembering the things you want to remember. I didn't do anything to you. Everything that happened that night happened because we both wanted it to. Everything. You have no right to blame me, to have me arrested for God's sake, just to save your own ass.

"I tried to protect you. I even told the Dean I drugged you to keep him from expelling you! How can you do this to me after I put everything on the line for you? You told me you loved me and I believed you. Was it all a lie? Why are you doing this to me? All I ever wanted was for us to be together."

Gallagher felt a surge of fear course through him. Justin was so convincing. He sounded so sincere. Could it really be true?

"No!" his voice was a little shaky but he put as much power behind the word as he could. "I don't believe you, Justin. You're lying. I never would have agreed to do that. Never. Not after all those times . . . ."

David sucked in a deep breath to keep his voice from breaking. Despite his suspicions that Justin had also been abused as a child, he hadn't shared his dark past with the redhead yet, and he didn't intend to start now. "I don't believe you, Justin. I won't believe your lies. Now stop calling me and leave me alone. Ms. Novak has filed for a restraining order. If you don't stop bothering me, they're going to arrest you and put you in jail."

He heard what sounded like a sob at the other end of the line. "I love you, David. I've always loved you. How can you do this to me after everything I've done for you. Everything I've done to protect you. He wanted to hurt you again, but I stopped him."

"What are you talking about?" David asked, feeling the knot of fear tighten in his chest.

"It doesn't matter now. You're a liar just like all the rest of them. You were just using me, just playing with me all along, weren't you? Did you have a good laugh at my expense? Stupid, pathetic Justin always following you around like a devoted puppy. Willing to do anything you wanted just so you'd give me a few minutes of your precious time and attention. I'll bet you and Nick and Jess had hours of fun laughing at me.

"But I don't care. I don't care what you say or what you think, because everything I ever did I did because I love you. Because I understand better than anyone else ever could what your life was like. How no matter how badly they hurt your body, it hurt even more inside. How that pain never goes away no matter what you try to do to make it better. I know what it was like, David, because it happened to me too.

"It took meeting you for me to realize I'd been looking in all the wrong places to make that pain go away. I kept wanting other people, normal people to love me, to accept me when they never could. When they could never really understand how it feels to be like us. To have survived what we survived.

"I mess things up all the time. I don't know how to be like other people. Please help me, David! I can't do it alone. I didn't mean to hurt you. I really didn't. I joined the fraternity because being with the guys, being part of the group, made me feel, just for a little while, like somebody really wanted me, really cared about me, that I belonged somewhere, that I was special. I wanted you to feel that way too.

"I realize now that was a mistake, that those guys are just like all the others, that all they cared about was our bodies. And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me, David. I can't stand the thought of you hating me."

David could hear Justin crying at the other end of the line and he choked back his own tears as he struggled with the right thing to do. Finally, he took a deep, calming breath and said, "Justin, I'm sorry for everything you've been through and I don't want to hurt you any more, but I don't love you. I'd like us to be friends. It would be good to have somebody to talk to who understands what it was like and I'd like to be there for you to help you through it too. But as friends. Not anything else."

"No! I'm not going to let you do this to me. We belong together, David. We've always belonged together. It was fate. That first time we met it was fate. It took me awhile to understand that, to realize why that happened the way it happened, but it was a sign. I'll make you see it! I'll make you understand! You just have to listen to me!"

"No, Justin! No more! If you won't listen to reason, there's nothing more to talk about. I'm going to the hearing in the morning and testifying, and I won't withdraw the complaint I filed against you. This has to end. If you won't do it the easy way, then I'll have to do it the hard way. Don't call me any more. Don't try to talk to me any more. Just stay away from me! Do you understand?"

"No, David! Stop saying things like that! It's that cop who's putting all this crazy shit in your head. He's the one who put you up to this, isn't he? I could tell from the way he was acting at the police station and at the hospital, the way he's been doing everything in his power to keep us apart. Can't you see he's just like all the others. He just wants you for himself. He's trying to keep us apart because he knows I see what he is. That I see he's just like the others. And he knows I'm not going to let him hurt you, so he wants me out of the way. Why can't you see that? How can you be so blind?"

"Stop it, Justin! Just stop! Elliot would never hurt me. He's got a family, he's got kids of his own. He'd never do anything like that!"

Justin laughed bitterly, "It must be nice in that dreamworld you live in, David - all bright fluffy clouds, eternal sunshine and cute little cotton-tail bunnies. Are you really going to tell me all those times, all those men, there was never a time you looked over and saw a ring on the hand holding you down. You think none of them had kids of their own? They probably just weren't old enough to be any fun yet!"

Tears were streaming down David's face and his hands were trembling so badly he could barely hold the phone. "I'm hanging up now, Justin. Don't call me any more. I mean it."

"FUCK YOU, you stupid shit! I don't need you! You're the one who'll be crawling back to me! Just wait and see!" Justin roared into the phone before slamming the receiver down at his end.

David's hands were shaking badly as he returned the receiver to its cradle, then leaned over and unplugged the phone. He clutched the cellphone in his hand wanting desperately to call someone, but knowing they'd be angry at him for talking to Justin in the first place. The pain inside him, the one only Justin understood, was aching so badly he just wanted to lay down and die, to have it all end once and for all.

Finally, he sank down on the bed with the phone still clutched in his hand and curled up in a little ball as he dragged the comforter from the end of the bed and wrapped it around himself as tightly as he could. He didn't expect to sleep but his eyes slid shut as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 9**

Stabler's cellphone rang and he reached for it while his eyes remained glued to the journal page in front of him. "Stabler," he said automatically, his eyes never leaving the page.

"Help me! Please! I don't know what to do." The voice was small and sad, and lost. The pain that radiated through it pulled Stabler's attention immediately from his work.

He checked the readout on his phone, but it displayed an unfamiliar number. "Of course I'll help you, but you have to tell me something first - who is this and where are you? I'll come right there and help you, but I need to know where you are."

As he was speaking into the phone, Stabler rose to his feet and leaned over his partner's desk to snap his fingers in front of her. When he had her attention, he pointed to his phone and quickly jotted down the number that appeared in his display and handed it to her. She nodded understanding and started to rise to her feet to order a trace when she suddenly stopped and began looking for something on her desk. She pulled a small sheet of notepaper from under the pile, looked at it, then handed it to Stabler.

He shot her a frustrated glare, but quickly glanced at the paper and his eyes widened. It was a sheet from one of Casey Novak's personalized pads. On it was a note that read, 'I got a cellphone for David from Victim Services in case we need to reach him or he needs to reach us in an emergency. I programmed all our numbers in it for him. His number is (212) 555-4787.'

The small voice on the other end of the phone was speaking again and Stabler forced his attention back to it, absently shoving the note in his shirt pocket where it couldn't get buried again.

"I . . . I don't know. He left me alone. In a bed. I don't know where. I'm afraid. He's going to come back soon and hurt me again." The boy started to cry.

"David," Stabler said forcefully. "David, listen to me. It's Detective Stabler. It's Elliot. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Y-y-yes," came the small frightened voice.

"Everything is going to be all right. Do you understand me? Olivia and I are coming to get you. Everything is going to be fine. Just stay on the line with me til we get there."

Stabler put his hand over the phone as Benson rushed back over to him. "I checked with the officers stationed outside the apartment building. He went up to his apartment around 9:00 and hasn't left."

"Then he's probably having a nightmare and can't pull himself out of it. He sounds like a little kid again. Like he did in the Dean's office. You're going to have to drive so I can keep talking to him," he added, tossing her the car keys.

He turned back to the phone, "David, are you still there?"

"Yes." The voice sounded sleepy now.

"Are you tired?"

"Uh-huh."

"I need you to do something for me before you go back to sleep."

"What?"

"Can you go into the living room and unlock the front door for me."

"No! No! I can't!" The boy's voice held pure terror. "He might be out there, out there waiting for me. I'm not supposed to leave the room. He punishes me if I leave the room."

"It's okay, David. It's okay. You stay right where you are then. Stay there where it's safe. You don't have to leave the room."

There was a short silence when all the detective could hear was the sound of panicked breathing, then the small, unsteady voice finally whispered, "It's okay? I don't have to go?"

"No, you don't have to go, David. It's okay for you to stay right there."

"You're not mad at me, are you? Please don't be mad. I didn't mean to be bad. I didn't mean to talk back. I'm sorry." The boy's voice was trembling with fear. "Will you still come get me? I don't want to stay here any more. I don't want him to hurt me any more."

"It's okay, David. I'm coming. I'm not going to leave you there. It's going to be okay. I'll be there soon."

"Soon. Going to come soon." The words were slightly slurred.

"David, do you have a blanket nearby?"

"Uh huh."

"You said you were sleepy before. Why don't you lay down and try to go to sleep. You can keep the phone next to you. I'll be right here."

"Promise?" The voice was slurry with sleep now.

"I promise. It's okay, David. It's okay to go to sleep."

"'kay." Then there was only silence punctuated by the sound of the boy's soft, even breathing.

Benson shot a quick glance at her partner and saw the anguish on his face. The hand holding the phone was trembling slightly -- she wasn't sure whether it was out of fear or anger. "The officers stationed outside his place are ready to go in. Just say the word."

"Not yet," Stabler replied. "As long as he's in this state, having total strangers bust down his door is only going to scare him more. I don't want to do that unless it's absolutely necessary."

"I haven't been able to reach Dr. Wilcox yet, but Huang in standing by in case we need him. He thinks David will be okay if we can just get him to wake up."

Stabler nodded as they reached the car and climbed in.

* * *

The twenty minute ride to David's apartment felt interminable to Stabler as he held the phone pressed against his ear, listening to the steady, even breathing that was occasionally interrupted by a soft murmur or a muffled cry. Elliot's heart raced every time one of those sounds reached his ear until he was able to identify it as coming from the boy and not from someone who had stolen into the room with him.

The car pulled up in front of the building and Stabler was halfway out before it came to a complete stop. Benson shouted after him, "Johnson and the super are waiting to let you in. I'll be right up."

Johnson's partner was waiting in the lobby and quickly opened the security door as the detective sprinted up the outside stairs. "Johnson tried knocking a couple of times, Detective, but there's no answer."

"Okay, thanks," Stabler muttered as he rushed past with the phone still pressed to his ear, then raced down the hall to the elevator, slapping the call button repeatedly in irritation until the doors finally began to part. He slid inside before they were completely open, hit the button for the fifth floor then slapped the 'door close' button repeatedly until the recalcitrant doors finally closed and the elevator made its slow and steady way up through the bowels of the building.

* * *

Benson parked the car, locked it and sprinted up the stone stairs leading to the vestibule. Just before she reached the entrance, she caught movement toward the side of the building out of the corner of her eye. She skidded to a stop and looked intently, finally making out a figure dressed in dark clothes making its way down the fire escape.

The officer stationed inside the lobby saw her stop and stare and moved quickly to the door with a concerned look on his face, his hand resting on his gun.

"Benson, Special Victims Unit," she said automatically when he finally opened the door. "Come with me. There's someone on that fire escape over there. It might be our perp. Protect yourself, but don't shoot him unless you have no other choice."

* * *

Stabler reached the apartment door just as Officer Johnson's radio flared to life. "Johnson, the other detective's with me. We've spotted someone on the fire escape climbing down from that side of the building. We're going to bag him," Johnson's partner reported.

At the officer's agonized look, Stabler said, "Go ahead and back your partner up. And take care of mine while you're at it. I can handle this."

Johnson nodded gratefully and took off down the hall toward the stairs, not bothering to wait for the slow-moving elevator.

"Open it," Stabler said impatiently to the super, who pulled out the key and fumbled it into the lock. The door sprang open but stopped moving again when it reached the end of the play on the interior chain lock. Stabler threw his entire weight against the door and heard the groan of splintering wood, but the chain didn't give. He threw himself against the door again and was rewarded by the satisfying sound of the plate tearing loose from the wall.

"Stay back," he barked at the super as he pulled his gun from its holster and trained it around the room. The living room was very obviously empty so he did a quick check of the kitchen before heading toward the bedroom. Since most of the lights in the apartment were on, it would have been difficult for an intruder to find a place to hide, but the detective quickly checked the closet, then the bathroom, before moving to the window leading to the fire escape.

He stood for a long moment looking at the interior window that was open about an inch and the screen and storm window that were all the way up before finally holstering the gun and quickly closing and locking the windows.

"Is everything okay?" the super asked in a nervous voice from the bedroom doorway as he stared curiously at the figure curled up in the comforter in the center of the bed.

"It looks like someone might have been trying to get in from the fire escape," Stabler said gruffly. "I think we scared him off. My partner and the two officers are apprehending him."

"Mother of God! We haven't had anything like this happen in a long time. Is David all right? He's such a nice boy. It would be terrible if anything happened to him."

"It looks like he slept through the whole thing," Stabler said as he moved toward the bedroom door to force the man back into the living room. "I'll take care of waking him up. Why don't you go downstairs and wait in the lobby to let my partner and the two officers back in after they catch the guy. It's pretty cold outside to keep them standing around out there."

"Yeah, sure," the super said. "I can do that."

"Oh, Mr. . . . ,"

"Dinkins, Claude Dinkins," the man replied turning back to face Stabler.

"The department will pay for replacing the chain, but can you take care of it first thing in the morning?"

"Ack, don't worry about the cost. We got plenty of that stuff down in the storage room. As long as David's okay, that's all that matters. He's a good boy. He sees me struggling with trash or leaves, he runs right over and helps. Not like the rest of those hoity toity kids who think because they go to college they're too good for manual labor."

Stabler followed the man to the door and gave him a grateful smile as he closed it in his face. He stood there for a moment with one hand on the knob and the other against the door trying to regain control of his turbulent emotions. The adrenaline was slowly receding but it was taking its time and right now all he wanted to do was punch something, repeatedly, as hard as he could.

Before he could get his emotions totally under control, he heard a harsh sound come from the bedroom, then David's voice. "No! Don't! Don't go. Please, come back. Don't leave me again!"

Stabler rushed back to the bedroom and saw David sitting in the middle of the bed with his arms wrapped around his legs and tears streaming down his face. He was looking around the room desperately as if searching for someone.

"David! David, it's Elliot. Are you okay?" he said as calmly but forcefully as he could, while he slowly inched closer to the bed, trying not to frighten the boy by too loud a voice or too quick movements.

Gallagher blinked several times and looked at him in confusion. "Elliot? What are you doing here? What happened?"

"You were having a nightmare. You called me and asked me to come help you."

"I . . . I sort of remember that. I was dreaming about when I was away. It was after Mike -- the guy who took me away -- didn't want me any more. There was a man he gave me to, a bad man. One of the worst. He was going to hurt me again. He liked hurting me. He liked it when I cried, that really turned him on." The boy shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around himself.

"Then I saw the cellphone there beside me and picked it up and pushed the button Ms. Novak showed me. Then someone was telling me everything was okay, that I could go back to sleep. Was that you?"

"Yes."

"I . . . I thought the whole thing was a dream, but I guess it wasn't, not all of it. Can we go in the other room? I need a glass of water."

"Sure," Stabler said, not allowing his relief at the change in venue to show on his face.

David got unsteadily to his feet and followed him out of the room, the comforter still clutched tightly around him. Stabler went to the kitchen, poured a glass of water and brought it over to the couch where the young man had settled himself and handed it to him. He watched as David took a quick gulp of the water, then clutched the glass nervously in both his hands and stared guiltily into it instead of looking at the detective.

"What is it, David? What happened that upset you so much?"

"Just . . . ." He swallowed and tried again. "Justin called right after I got home. I know I shouldn't have answered the phone, but I thought it might be Jess and I wanted to talk to her. He said all sorts of horrible things. He called me a liar and kept ranting about how we're supposed to be together. It scared me so bad. I told him to stop calling, to leave me alone, but he kept ranting at me. When he finally hung up, I unplugged the phone and just curled up on the bed and tried to sleep. That's when I had the nightmare."

David took another deep drink of the water. "Then . . . then I . . . I went to sleep like you told me to and when I opened my eyes again my mother was sitting beside me. She looked so sad, so worried. Then she smiled at me. She said she knew I'd been going through a really difficult time, but she wanted me to know that she and my father still love me and are proud of me for not giving up. She said she knows how hard it's been for me and that it's going to get even harder, but she knows I'll do the right thing. She leaned over and kissed me on the forehead the way she used to when I was a little boy and she was tucking me in at night. She said I should never forget how much she loves me. I felt so warm, so safe, like nothing bad could ever happen to me. Then I woke up and she was gone."

David was crying again, his body shaking with sobs as the tears flowed down his face. "I miss her so much, Elliott. I don't know how to get through this without her. I don't think I can. I don't think I can do it."

Stabler put his arms around the boy and held him as he cried, the deep, broken-hearted sobs ripping his own heart to shreds. "It's okay, David," he crooned softly. You don't have to do it. No one is going to make you. It'll be okay."

A sudden insistent knocking on the apartment door made the detective jump and his arms tightened protectively around the young man. He debated letting go of him long enough to reach for his weapon as he called out in a strained voice, "Who is it?"

"Olivia."

"Come in," Stabler said with relief, trying to keep his voice steady despite the flood of emotion overwhelming him. "The door's unlocked."

Benson heard something odd in her partner's voice and rushed through the door with her hand on her weapon. The hand dropped to her side as she saw David sobbing uncontrollably in Elliott's arms. Her partner's eyes were full of pain as they looked at her. It sent a shiver through her to see how clearly overwhelmed he was by the situation and how deeply he was relating to the young man's pain.

"What is it? What happened?" she asked with concern as she crossed the room to kneel beside them and lay a comforting hand on David's back.

"Justin called. That's what triggered the nightmare. Then he had a dream that his mother was here with him, but he woke up alone. It really upset him," Stabler explained in a hushed voice. He looked down at the man-child cradled in his arms, then back at his partner, eyes filled with compassion and determination as they locked on hers. "He can't do it, Liv. And we can't make him. I'm not going to make him. He's been through enough already."

Benson sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She could tell by the look on her partner's face that there was no reasoning with him about this, and looking at the grief-stricken boy in his arms she had to agree. This time it couldn't matter that they would be allowing a predator to stay on the street, not if it meant destroying this kid to keep him locked up.

David's sobs finally subsided and he settled against Elliot's chest, one arm tucked between his body and Elliott's side, the other resting lightly beside his face against Elliott's chest, just above his heart. The comforter had slid down to pool around the boy's waist and Stabler automatically pulled it up and settled it around his shoulders, instinctively wanting to hold him tighter to give comfort and a sense of security but feeling a flicker of unease at the intimacy of the embrace. Trying to distract himself, he asked softly, "Did you get the guy? Was it him?"

Benson shook her head. "We got him, but it wasn't Justin. Just some kid who broke into an apartment to steal some electronics. Johnson and Biggs took him to the station to be processed. I told them we'd watch over things here til they got back."

"Okay," Stabler said distantly, and she knew he'd stopped listening as soon as he heard the perp wasn't Justin. Finally he said very softly, "He was here, Liv. It might not have been him that time, but he was here. The window in David's bedroom was open about an inch, just like the one in Justin's room. He was here."

Benson watched her partner's face carefully, knowing he was rerunning every second of the phone conversation through his mind, searching for a clue that one of the sounds he'd heard had really been Justin, standing silently in the room while David lay there defenseless in sleep, possibly preparing to harm him.

"We'll get him, Elliott. He's not going to hurt David again."

Stabler stared at her for a moment as if debating whether to argue, before finally nodding agreement.

"How's he doing," she whispered softly a few moments later.

"He's settling down. He should be totally out soon."

"That's good," she said with a concerned smile, not sure what else to say.

Stabler felt David move restlessly in his arms at the sound of the soft voices. His eyes blinked open sleepily and he looked up at Elliott with a sweet, sleepy smile and began running his hand up and down his chest. "Can we go to bed now, Kristian? I'm really tired." The words were said in the soft childlike voice David used when he was lost in one of his memories, but they still hit the detective hard.

Benson saw her partner's body tense and thought for a moment that he was going to push the boy off him and jump as far away from him as he could get. She saw the battle raging across Stabler's face but said nothing because she didn't know what the right answer was.

Finally, she saw him grit his teeth, then tentatively reach up and pat the boy on the shoulder. "It's okay, David. You don't have to move, you can sleep here. Everything is going to be okay."

"Um hmm," the boy murmured as he settled deeper against Elliott's chest, already drifting away.

Stabler looked up at his partner, the expression on his face daring her to say he'd done the wrong thing.

"It's okay, Ell. He's upset and he needs to sleep. It . . . it doesn't mean anything. Once he's deeply asleep we can move him."

Stabler nodded, some of the tension leaving his shoulders, as he leaned back against the sofa and closed his weary eyes wishing he could escape into sleep too, but doubting that would be happening this night.

* * *

Stabler waited impatiently for the coffeemaker to finish its burbling and give him the caffeine shot his body so desperately needed. It had been a long night and an even longer day lay before him.

Once David had fallen asleep it had been almost half an hour before they'd chanced moving the exhausted young man off Elliott's chest. To their great relief, he'd remained deeply asleep. Benson had gotten a pillow and some more blankets from the bedroom and settled David as comfortably as possible on the sofa, tucking the blankets snugly around him while Stabler called George Huang to ask for advice about the situation.

Huang had been concerned about the breakdown, but had advised them to let the boy sleep for the time being and not compound his trauma by taking him to the hospital. He'd seemed confident David would be back to normal when he woke up, and that the episode had been triggered by the phone call from Justin dredging up memories he'd been suppressing for years.

To Stabler's great relief, the psychiatrist had agreed that David's mental state was too fragile for him to testify at the TRO hearing. After promising to call Huang again first thing in the morning to set up a time for him to meet with David in person to assess his condition, the detective had hung up, then stood on the other side of the room with his hands in his pockets feeling distinctly uncomfortable as he watched Benson tend to their charge.

Always a good and perceptive partner, Olivia had offered to stay alone with David while Elliott went home to get some sleep. As tempting as the offer had been, he'd shaken his head no, unwilling to risk putting her in an awkward position if anyone ever questioned her being alone with the young man for an entire night. He certainly wouldn't put it past Graves' attorney to attempt a stunt like that.

So they'd agreed to take three hour shifts -- one sleeping in the comfortable armchair across from the sofa, the other staying awake to watch over the traumatized young man. Olivia had convinced him to let her take the first shift and he had slept fitfully til it was time for him to take the second. Now, at 7:30 a.m. with less than three hours sleep under his belt, Stabler desperately needed the caffeine the coffeemaker was tantalizing him with.

Finally the machine disgorged the last of the coffee and the detective eagerly poured himself a cup. Black was a necessity this morning. Adulterating the caffeine with sugar or milk wasn't even an option. He took a sip and carried the cup back to the living room, where he settled himself into one of the chairs at the small dinette table and began dealing out a fresh hand of solitaire.

A movement across the room caught his attention and he stood up instantly. David sat up and rubbed his eyes, glancing around in confusion. His eyes finally settled on Benson, asleep in the armchair, and the look on his face changed to one of consternation. He started to get up off the couch and half turned toward the kitchen, but froze when he saw Stabler standing there.

"Elliott? What are you doing here?" he asked warily.

Stabler tried to relax his body language and paste a calming smile on his face, but found it hard to ease the tension humming through his body, as he fervently wished the sound of their voices would wake Benson.

"You called me last night. You were upset and needed someone to talk to. Olivia and I came over and we talked for a little while. Then you fell asleep. We didn't want to wake you to move you into the bedroom, so Liv grabbed some blankets so you could sleep on the sofa."

David blushed slightly and fidgeted uncomfortably. "Why are you still here?"

Stabler opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again while he considered his response. They hadn't really believed Justin would try to come back again that night, so giving him that easy answer would be a lie. And this boy had been lied to enough in his lifetime. But telling him the real truth -- that after the trauma of the nightmares they'd been afraid he might try to hurt himself if they left him alone -- could put the idea in his head if it wasn't already there.

"You were pretty upset. We didn't want you to wake up alone again. So we took turns sleeping in the chair."

Gallagher's eyes went to Benson, still fast asleep in the chair, then turned back to Stabler. A sheen of tears glistened in them, and Stabler tensed at the thought of another scene like the night before. Instead, David continued to look at him steadily before finally saying, "Thanks for doing that. I really appreciate it."

"No problem," Stabler replied, relaxing slightly.

"Why was I so upset?"

"Justin called. Then you had some bad dreams. And a dream about your mother."

David nodded in resignation. "So all of that really did happen. I thought maybe the whole thing was a bad dream."

"'fraid not," Stabler responded.

"What time do we have to be in court?" David asked hesitantly.

Stabler's expression softened. "It's okay, David. You don't have to go."

"What do you mean? I thought Ms. Novak said she couldn't get the restraining order without my testimony. And how will you be able to find Justin to arrest him if he doesn't have to go to the hearing?"

"Casey's pretty smart, she'll figure something out, and don't worry, we'll find Justin and have him behind bars before you know it. None of that matters right now. We'll figure out some way to do it without making you testify. It's not worth the way it's tearing you apart. Even if I have to spend every free moment I have searching for him, I'll find that little freak and put him in the deepest, darkest cell I can find."

"No," David said firmly. "I have to testify."

"Why?" Stabler asked, completely perplexed by the young man's sudden determination.

David thought carefully about what he wanted to say before answering. "I told you about the dream I had about my mother. In it she said she and my dad are watching over me -- that they're proud of me. That I need to be strong just a little while longer.

"I . . . I never want to disappoint them, Elliott. I never want them to be ashamed of me. If Justin stays free because I was too much of a baby to testify and he goes out and hurts someone else, I . . . I couldn't . . . I just couldn't live with that. And not just because my parents would be ashamed of me -- I'd be ashamed of me too."

"I'll be honest with you, David," Stabler said in a solemn voice. "After what happened last night, I'm afraid you're not going to be able to hold it together. I talked to Dr. Huang last night and he's very concerned about your mental state. This situation is dredging up a lot of memories that you're having trouble dealing with as it is. Justin's lawyer is going to make it worse by hammering you with a lot of very difficult, painful and deliberately shocking questions. He's going to do everything in his power to make it look like you were a fully-consenting participant in that orgy and that when you got caught, you used Justin as a scapegoat and made up this whole story to keep yourself from being expelled."

"I can handle it, Elliott. I swear I can. Ms. Novak went over a lot of the questions with me already. I can do it. There's just one thing."

"What?"

"Are you . . . you and Olivia going to be in the courtroom with me?"

"I'm not sure. If they call us to testify before they call you, we probably can. I can't remember if the rule about not allowing witnesses to hear each other's testimony applies in TRO hearings."

"Is that so nobody changes their story to make it conform to other people's?"

"That's right."

"But you'll be there if they let you."

"We'll be there. And even if we're not there in the courtroom, we'll be waiting right outside in the hall. You won't be alone."

"Okay. I guess I better go shower and change."

"That's a good idea. I'll wake Olivia so she's ready to go when you come out. And I need to call Dr. Huang and tell him to meet us at Casey's office. He's going to want to talk to you before agreeing to allow you to testify. We should have just enough time to drop you there and go home to get into fresh clothes ourselves before we have to be in court."

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 10**

Casey Novak emerged from the courtroom with a smile on her face, trailed by Gallagher, Benson and Stabler. "We got it! I could tell by the look on the Judge's face when she saw the scrapbook that her mind was pretty much made up, but when David talked about the phone call last night, that really sealed the deal. We caught a big break when Justin didn't show up but his lawyer did. He won't be able to argue he didn't have proper notice or representation. As soon as the paperwork goes through, I'll get it over to you.

She turned to her star witness. "You did a great job, David. I have to admit I was a little nervous when I heard about last night, but you really held it together. You should be proud."

"Thanks, Ms. Novak," Gallagher responded, a slight blush tinging his cheeks. "And thanks for everything you've done for me. I really appreciate it."

"Not a problem. I have to warn you, though, the next round isn't going to be that easy. If we can't get Justin to confess, the sexual assault charges are going to be extremely difficult to prove. Are you sure you can handle it?"

"Pretty sure," David said with a slight hesitation. "The thought of it scares me a lot, but I know I can't let Justin get away with it. After the phone call last night, I know he'd have no qualms about doing something like that to somebody else. He wasn't really sorry he did it to me. He was more upset that I didn't react to it the way he expected me to. How long will it be until the trial?"

"We have to catch him first," Stabler interjected.

"Once we do there'll be a lot of preliminaries, and I'm sure his lawyer will be angling to make a deal to avoid trial," Novak said. "If there's no deal, there'll be weeks, possibly months of motions, objections and discovery to wade through before we're ready for trial. It can be a long drawn-out process. That's one reason we got the TRO. If he makes bail at his arraignment, we can arrest him again if he tries to contact you."

"If he makes a deal there wouldn't have to be a trial? What kind of deal would you make?"

"In exchange for him pleading guilty to all the charges or possibly to a lesser charge, if I feel it's warranted, we'll offer him less jail time. I don't intend to accept any offer that gives him a get out of jail free card."

"Will there be doctors at the jail who will help him? What his father did to him really messed him up in the head. The way he is, it isn't all his fault. Somebody should try to help him."

Novak, Benson and Stabler exchanged glances. "We can see about getting him into a psychiatric facility to do his time, if that's what you really want," Novak said.

"Could you? No one would hurt him there, would they? I know if they put him in a regular jail, the other guys will hurt him -- the way his father used to - and I don't want that. He does this stuff because he never had anybody who gave a damn about him or did anything but hurt him. I want somebody to help him the way all of you are helping me. I wish I could help him myself, but I know things have gone too far for that. He's not going to listen to me any more. I'd even drop the charges if I believed he'd get help and that he'd leave me alone and not hurt anybody else, but I know he won't. Not until someone forces him to stop."

The others were silent for a moment before Stabler finally said, "I wish I could be as good a person as you are, David. I really do."

Gallagher looked at him in surprise. "You are a good person, Elliot. You've been really good to me. I don't know how I would have gotten through any of this without you, without all of you. And I really want to thank you for that. It means more to me than you could ever know."

"That's what we're here for," Novak said, attempting to lighten the mood. "I've got to go. I've got a meeting back at the office. I'll send you those papers as soon as I get them from the judge's office."

As she turned and strode off down the hall, Benson asked, "Can we drop you somewhere, David?"

"Actually," Stabler interrupted, "he's coming with us. George Huang needs to meet with him again."

"Why?" David asked, his voice going slightly wary. "He said I was fine when I saw him before the hearing. He wouldn't have let me testify otherwise."

"Do you really need to ask after what happened last night?" Noting David's crestfallen expression, he added, "Look, he just wants to sit down with you and go over some options for additional counseling. I know you're comfortable with Dr. Wilcox and he said you wouldn't have to stop seeing her if you don't want to, but we both think it would help for you to have someone else to talk to. It seems pretty clear there are some subjects you aren't comfortable discussing with her, and you really need to talk about them with somebody. You have to get it off your chest before it eats you up from the inside out -- and that is what's happening, David. You've got to do something about it now."

Gallagher continued to stare at him unhappily for a moment before finally nodding his head.

* * *

David ambled idly through the Elmhurst campus, enjoying its seasonal beauty on this brisk November day, and feeling better than he had in weeks. He'd been surprised to find Dr. Wilcox at the meeting with Dr. Huang and relieved when she supported Huang's suggestion that he get additional counseling. Elliot had been right that there were things he just didn't feel comfortable telling her, but she had been so kind to him over the years he hadn't wanted to hurt her feelings by saying that. Dr. Huang had recommended several doctors and he'd agreed to make preliminary appointments with two of them. If he didn't like either of them, there were several other names to choose from. It was a pleasant surprise to find that after hiding from his dark past for so long, the thought of talking about it no longer filled him with shame and fear, but with a huge sense of relief.

"David! David, wait up!"

The familiar voice startled him and his heart was racing in his chest as he turned to face the person rushing toward him. "Hi Jess," he said, his voice tinged with nervousness.

He felt another wave of relief when she didn't hesitate, but simply threw herself into his arms and hugged him.

"Oh, God, David! I've been so worried about you! Why didn't you call me? I've been out of my mind!"

"I'm sorry, Jess. I was going to call you last night but things got a little crazy. Then I had to go to a hearing this morning."

"A hearing? What kind of hearing? You're not in trouble are you?"

"No, no. I'm fine. I had to testify so we could get a restraining order against Justin. They'll be arresting him as soon as they can find him, but Ms. Novak was worried that if he makes bail, he'll keep trying to harass me into dropping the charges."

"You won't, will you? You're not going to let him get away with what he did to you, are you?"

"No. I can't take the chance he'd try to hurt somebody else if he sees he can get away with it this time."

"Is it okay for you to be walking around here by yourself? What if Justin's lurking around here somewhere, looking for a chance to get at you?"

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. When I told the detectives I wanted to come here to try to work on some projects, they said I should be safe here. Campus security is working with the police and they're keeping an eye out for Justin. If he shows up on campus, they'll arrest him on the spot. He'd be stupid to show up here with so many people looking for him. And unfortunately Justin's not stupid," he added heavily.

"Notice how I've managed to restrain myself from saying I told you so," Jessica said with a small smile.

"I appreciate that," he said returning the smile.

Jessica had one arm looped around his waist as they walked and talked, and David kept his arm around her shoulders, thinking how good it felt, how natural, to be with her again. "I'm sorry for putting you through all this, Jess. I never even asked how the funeral was. How's your mom holding up?"

"As well as can be expected. The stroke was so sudden. We all thought Grams had another 20 or 30 years left in her."

"She was a terrific lady. I . . . ." The sound of a cellphone's chirping ring interrupted the conversation.

"When did you get a cellphone?"

"Ms. Novak gave it to me in case there was an emergency and they needed to reach me. I'd better answer it."

He pulled out the phone and, not recognizing the number in the display, spoke tentatively into it, "Hello?"

"Is this David Gallagher?"

"Yes. Who's this?"

"This is Officer Peterson, from police dispatch. Detective Stabler's cellphone is on the fritz so he asked me to pass a message on to you."

"What is it?"

"There's been a development in the Justin Graves case. He needs you to meet him at the Regis Arms Hotel in Manhattan at 3:00. Room 624."

David's heartbeat sped up and an alarm went off in his head. "Why? What's going on?"

"Hey, I'm just the dispatcher, not his personal assistant," the man growled. "I only pass along the messages. What should I tell him when he calls in again? Will you be meeting him or not?"

Gallagher hesitated for a moment, then said, "Tell him I'll be there. I'll do anything I can to help."

"Okay, I'll tell him." The man abruptly cut the connection.

"What's wrong, David? You look upset."

"Oh, nothing really, Jess. Detective Stabler needs me to meet with him. There's been some new development about Justin."

"Do you want me to go with you?" she asked, eyes full of concern.

He flashed her a grateful smile. "I appreciate the offer, but I'll be fine."

* * *

David stepped out of the elevator and walked down the sixth floor hallway, giving the room numbers on the doors he passed a cursory check but knowing instinctively the room -- no not just a room, a suite -- would be at the very end of the hallway.

He'd had a strong sense of _deja vu _from the moment the cab turned the corner and the hotel came into view. He'd been sitting, staring absently out the window, letting his mind wander, wondering what the hotel would look like. He'd been in so many during his time away that they all blended together. Even so, it had unsettled him greatly when the building appeared before him looking exactly the same as the picture he'd conjured in his head, except for the awning covering the entrance being a rich royal blue instead of the deep red he'd envisioned.

The sense of familiarity had stayed with him as he crossed the lobby and entered the elevator, although there were just enough things - furniture, lighting, fixtures - that weren't quite right to make him believe it was just a trick his mind was playing on him because he was nervous. He wiped his slightly sweaty palms on his jeans as he approached the double doors marked 624, trying not to let the trepidation he was feeling paralyze him.

A small voice in his head was shouting, _This is all wrong! If they found Justin here or found out something that links him to this place, why aren't there any police around? And why did he want to meet you in the room instead of in the lobby? _

David raised his hand to knock on the door, but it began to tremble slightly as Justin's words from the phone call the night before reverberated in his head._ Can't you see he's just like all the others? He just wants you for himself_. He squeezed his eyes closed and thought back at those voices, _NO! That's not true!_ and forced himself to knock.

The door swung open when his knuckles smacked against it, but he remained standing in the hallway for several moments trying to fight back the waves of fear and apprehension that were cascading over him. Slowly he forced himself to move forward into the room, already knowing what it would look like inside - large, open living area brightly lit by the sunlight streaming in from the floor to ceiling windows lining one side of the spacious room. There was a sliding glass door that led to a balcony that stretched the entire length of the room and, he knew without being able to see, continued down the side of the building to meet up with another sliding glass door leading from the master bedroom. At the far left was a small kitchen/dinette area and the door immediately to the right opened to a short hallway leading to the master bedroom with its own private bath to the left and a slightly smaller bedroom with a connecting door leading to the central bathroom to the right.

David stood with his hand on the doorknob looking around the familiar room -- again some things were different, but they were small things like curtain fabric and the color of the rugs. He closed his eyes to block out the image of the room, but another image took its place.

_He was slumped into one of the cushy armchairs facing the wall of windows trying to read a book as Mike paced back and forth in nervous agitation. There was a knock on the door and the man's face split into a huge, excited grin as he raced to answer it._

The pain of the metal digging into his hand as he instinctively tightened his grip on the door handle pulled him abruptly out of the vision, his heart racing with fear.

"Elliot? Are you here?" he finally managed to force through a throat that was so dry and constricted he wasn't sure how he'd managed to force any sounds through it at all.

Knowing no one inside could have heard that barely audible query, he forced himself to step further into the room and push the door closed behind him. The click of the lock automatically engaging made him jump nervously as his eyes swept the room again, searching for a sign that someone else was there. His stomach constricted painfully when his searching gaze finally halted at a familiar object. He felt his hands clench involuntarily as he stared at the trenchcoat that had been carefully folded over the back of one of the easy chairs.

_Please God, please don't let this be happening_, he prayed silently as he forced himself to move to the easy chair and touch the coat. He ran his finger tentatively over a stain on the sleeve he remembered seeing that morning as he'd watched the detective pull the coat on before they left his apartment to go to Casey Novak's office.

The muted sound of soft music playing somewhere close by penetrated the layers of shock and fear. He wondered distantly if it had been playing all along and he'd been too distracted to notice or if someone had just turned it on as he moved automatically toward the slightly open door leading to the bedrooms, following the sound as though it were his own personal pied piper. Pulling the door all the way open and stepping through into the hallway beyond, he focused all his resolve on continuing to move, forcing his reluctant feet forward. His steps slowed as he approached the master bedroom and he felt his body start to tremble again.

He was glad the numbness enveloping him like a cocoon had finally silenced the voice screaming in his head for him to stop, turn around and get out now. Because he couldn't stop. He had to know. If Justin was right, he had to see it for himself. He didn't know what he'd do once he'd seen that awful truth, but seeing it was the only way he could ever believe it.

When he reached the door to the master bedroom, he saw the bed had been turned down. Carefully laid across one of the chairs so they wouldn't crease were a familiar suit coat, trousers, dress shirt, and tie. "Elliot," his voice was so small the word was barely a squeak.

He felt someone come up behind him just before a hand touched his back and slid lightly up and down it in a comforting motion before sliding down to gently squeeze his buttocks. David closed his eyes for a moment to fight back the tears of disappointment before forcing himself to turn around, even though he had no idea what he was going to say or do.

There was barely time to register the malicious smile, the spiky red hair or the movement of the other man's body before pain erupted in his shoulder, then along the side of his face, spreading up to his forehead then downward to reverberate through the rest of his body. He barely felt the second blow smash into his ribs before the world went dark and his body crumpled to the floor.

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 11**

Detective Olivia Benson sat at her desk pouring over the contents of the trophy box. The call from David last night and the hearing this morning, along with some other pressing work, had kept her from finishing this project sooner and she wanted to get it done before leaving that night. All of the items had been sorted chronologically by the date handwritten on them and she was busily inputting the list into a spreadsheet to make it easier to cross reference the items against the dates of the trips referenced in the scrapbook and journal.

"Hand me the scrapbook for a minute, Elliot. I want to check something."

Her partner grabbed the book off his desk and leaned over to hand it to her. She started to take it from him, but lost her grip, causing the book to fall to the floor with a loud thud and sending a few loose pictures and clippings scattering.

"Whoops," Stabler said with a sheepish grin.

"My fault. I've got a bad case of the dropsies today," she replied with a grimace as she leaned over to gather up the book and scattered papers. As she lifted the book, she noticed a gap had opened in the binding of the cushioned cover and something was sticking out of it. Curious, she used her fingernail to nudge the object out further.

"Come look at this, Elliot. I think it's a polaroid."

Stabler immediately got up and stood by her shoulder, watching her carefully work the picture out of the binding. Finally it came loose. Benson let out a shocked gasp when she was able to see the complete picture, while Stabler muttered, "Holy shit," as he stared at it in stunned silence.

In the foreground were two naked boys. Although they had been posed to give a mirror image effect -- laying on their sides facing opposite directions with their heads side by side in the center of the frame, one arm bracing the head while the other lay casually on the ground in front of him -- the boys themselves couldn't be more different. The one on the right was older, with a mop of medium length light brown hair crowning an angelic face set with sapphire blue eyes and a body that was long and lean, athletic without being muscular. The one on the left was small and slight, with tousled red hair highlighting a rather ordinary face liberally sprinkled with freckles and eyes of green flecked with gold.

A naked man crouched on one knee behind each boy, his other leg bent and that foot braced on the floor directly behind the boy's knees, leaving the man's genitals fully exposed. One hand was resting on the bent knee, the other was frozen in a caressing motion along the boy's hip. The triumphant looks on the men's faces and the possessive gesture of the caress gave the impression of hunters who had captured their prey and were preparing to feast on it.

Stabler couldn't take his eyes off the older boy, who was probably 11 or 12 judging by his size. The sapphire eyes were dark and empty, shadowed with incredible pain. Finally, he forced himself to look at the other child -- at least half a foot smaller and achingly thin, he appeared to be 8 or 9, but the familiar bright red hair and freckled face let the detectives know that in this case appearances really were deceiving.

"They knew each other," Benson said in a voice shaking with horror. "They knew each other before. Why didn't David tell us? How could he keep something like that from us?"

Stabler took the picture from her trembling hand to take a closer look at the men in it as he responded absently, "He didn't tell us because he doesn't remember. He's locked that part of his life so deep in his subconscious, he doesn't even recognize when a piece of it surfaces. We should talk to Huang to confirm it, but I'll bet this is why David's been having so many nightmares and disassociative events recently. Being in contact with Justin is bringing all this crap to the surface again. Making him remember whether he wants to or not.

"And that's probably what Justin wanted all along. That's why he kept saying they belonged together. His obsession with David started whenever this picture was taken."

"Is there a date on it?" Benson asked. "I'll check it against my list to see if there are any trophies in the box."

Stabler examined the photo carefully. "None that I can see. Let's see if there are any others hidden in there."

He pulled a letter opener out of his desk, using it to carefully separate the binding on two sides before pulling back the padded cover.

Benson reached in and her searching fingers pried out three more polaroids. Ignoring the pictures for the time being, she scanned the white section at the bottom of each for a date before handing them to her partner. "Take a close look, Elliot. The second one has a notation that looks like 11/2/96."

"That's what it looks like to me," Stabler responded absently, as she turned to her list and began reviewing it. "Does this guy look familiar to you?" he interrupted suddenly, passing her a photo of the man who had been positioned behind Justin in the first picture, but was now sitting alone with the little redhead in his lap.

Benson winced as she looked at the picture. The boy wasn't smiling as widely in this one but the man had a rapturous look on his face. The position of the boy on his lap made it obvious why. "He does look familiar, but I can't place him. I have an item on the list that's dated 10/28-11/2/96," she added as she turned to the neatly bagged and tagged items spread out on her desk and began searching for it.

Barely listening, Stabler kept staring at the picture for a moment, then reached over and grabbed David Gallagher's file off his desk and quickly began rooting through the pages. Finally, he found what he was looking for and held the picture up for his partner to see.

"I don't understand. If that's David's kidnapper holding Justin, who is the other man?"

Stabler opened the scrapbook and began turning the pages rapidly til he came to the beginning of the first section written with the childish scrawl. He held up the book and pointed.

"Okay," she said slowly. "That's Justin's father. Then why is he with . . . . Oh my God! They traded. They traded the boys."

"David said in his statement to the police that his kidnapper, Mike Delaney, lost interest in him around the time he turned 11 and started selling or trading him to other people. He looks to be 11 or 12 in these pictures."

"No wonder Justin feels such an attachment to David." Benson said softly. "They shared a lot more than just being sexually assaulted by their own abusers, they were assaulted by each other's abuser too, so they experienced exactly the same type of abuse by the same men."

"And that may partly explain why Justin did what he did with the frat party. He wanted to bring it full circle. He'd been done by all the guys at his initiation, I'll bet making David go through the same thing was his way of reestablishing the same kind of bond between them."

"It's too horrible to even imagine."

"We need to get Huang's input on this. If we're right, then Justin may be even more dangerously unbalanced than we thought. This puts David's rejection of him on an entirely different level."

As Stabler reached for his cellphone to make the call, Benson's began to ring.

"Benson," she said automatically as she finally located the item she'd been looking for and closed her hand around it.

"Detective Benson? This is Jessica, Jessica Langford. Am I interrupting anything important?"

"I am in the middle of something, Jessica, but I can give you a few minutes. What can I do for you?"

"Do you know when Detective Stabler is going to be finished with David? He's been gone for hours now and I haven't heard anything from him. I'm starting to get worried. Have they caught Justin yet? Is that why it's taking so long?"

Benson let the object she'd been holding fall out of her hand as she raised it and began signaling frantically to her partner to listen. Stabler quickly finished his call and clicked off, looking at her quizzically.

"Jessica," she said as calmly as she could while she stared at Stabler. "What makes you think David's with Elliot?"

Stabler's eyes widened in shock and he moved closer to try to hear both sides of the conversation.

"He got a call on that cellphone you gave him around 2:00. We were on campus talking when it came in. When he hung up he said he had to meet Detective Stabler at 3:00. That there was something going on with Justin."

"Do you know who it was who called him?"

"No," the girl said nervously. "I don't think it was Detective Stabler himself because I heard David say 'tell him I'll be there'. Why did you ask that? What's going on?"

"Jessica, Elliot's with me. He's been with me all day. He never called David or went to meet him anywhere."

"Oh, God! Oh my God! It was Justin, wasn't it? He tricked him. He tricked him into meeting him."

"Jessica, you have to stay calm. I need you to help me. What exactly did you hear when they were on the phone. Did you hear anything the other person said?"

"No. I'm sorry, I didn't. It wasn't a very long conversation."

Benson shook her head at her partner and watched his face tighten into frustration and suppressed rage. Her concern that he'd lose control and start hitting something turned to relief as she watched his cop instincts kick in. He quickly picked up his phone and ordered a dump on David's cellphone, then raced into the Captain's office to advise him of the situation.

"Jessica, we're going to find him, I promise. But if you think of anything that might be helpful in the meantime, give me a call back, okay."

"Okay, but please have somebody call me as soon as he's found."

"I will. Goodbye." Benson hung up the phone with a heavy heart, her sixth sense telling her the only thing they were going to find was a body. She moved her hand restlessly over the top of her desk and it instinctively closed over the item from the trophy box -- a hotel keycard. She looked at it carefully for a long moment -- but it was just a plain, ordinary keycard. She turned it over again and noticed a tiny symbol at the bottom of the card. She pulled out a magnifying glass and looked at it closer. It was a tiny crown with a cross over it and a circle of stars orbiting them.

* * *

David drifted in the darkness and the pain for a long time before color washed back into the world. When the colors finally resolved themselves and the image appeared before him, he tried desperately to dive back into the darkness. But there was no escape.

_He was sitting in the armchair with his book open in his lap watching as Mike -- who was currently going by the name Mark -- rushed to open the hotel room door. A cute redheaded boy with freckles sprinkled liberally over his solemn face -- he couldn't be older than 8 or 9 -- came in, followed by a tall, balding man with a fringe of graying hair around his head. _

_Even as he saw Mike's face break into a smile of genuine delight when the man got his first good look at the little redhead, he felt his own stomach clench in fear as he looked into the balding man's eyes and saw only blackness. He barely heard the introductions -- the little boy was Jason and the man was Mitch -- because, as the man looked back at him, a slow, predatory smile spread across his face. _

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 12**

"The call came from a cellphone that's not currently on," Stabler said, so we can't trace the current location. "I'm going to try to call David's cellphone. If someone picks it up, we can use the GPS to track his location."

"Does anybody recognize the symbol on this keycard," Benson asked, passing it around. "According to the scrapbook, it's from a trip Justin and his father took to New York in 1996. They may have met up with David and his kidnapper on this trip."

When the card came to him, Cragen looked at it and frowned. "This looks like the logo on the sign they had on the old St. Regis Hotel in Manhattan. I used to go to the bar there with the guys quite often in the good old days. I think it got sold a couple years ago -- it was renovated and given a new name. I don't remember what it is though."

"I'll check it out," Munch said, turning to the nearest computer.

* * *

David fought to pull himself out of the dream and drift back into the darkness again, but this nightmare refused to be ignored.

_It was almost noon and they had just gotten out of bed and joined the others for brunch. As he ate and listened to the little redhead's chatter, he felt a glimmer of hope that this week wouldn't be so bad after all. The first day and night had not been too awful. Mike had suggested the men take the boys out and show them the town. So they'd gone to Central Park, visited the zoo, then had a late dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe. Jason had been so excited, his enthusiasm had buoyed his own spirits and made the day more fun than he'd ever expected it could be. _

_When they'd returned, Mitch had wanted to go right to bed. He'd been scared but the man had been tired and wanted to get some sleep, so even that had not been as bad as he'd expected. _

_He brought his attention back to the present as he heard Mike say he was taking Jason to Coney Island and ask if they wanted to come. The ember of excitement that flared at the thought of going to an amusement park quickly died as Mitch said he didn't feel like going out, so they were just going to stay in and get better acquainted. He saw Mike smile knowingly at the remark, then watched in dispirited silence as Mike and Jason gathered their things and headed off on their adventure._

_The next few hours proved his instincts correct. 'Get better acquainted', the words had a mocking quality as they slid through his brain afterward, taunting him. He thought there wasn't any part of his body Mitch wasn't acquainted with at this point and he tried to still the tremor of fear and disgust that slid through him at the thought. He felt a wave of relief when the man finally got up and pulled his clothes on. He watched from the bed as those dark, soulless eyes bored into him, while their owner said, "I'm going out for a little while. Don't move from that spot until I get back." _

_His body aching and deeply afraid, he stayed in the big bed for what felt like hours, long after he heard the apartment door open and close and he knew the man was gone. But then his body betrayed him and he felt the inescapable need to go to the bathroom. After a quick internal battle, he raced into the connecting bathroom, did his business then started back to the bed. _

_But he wasn't tired and he felt the resentment build in him at being forced to stay in bed while the others were out having fun. The contrary thought popped into his head that since no one had caught him going to the bathroom, why shouldn't he be able to make it into the other room for just a minute to get something to read while he waited without anyone knowing. There would be time to shove it under the mattress when he heard the man return, so he'd never know he'd left the room._

_Bolstered by the thought of getting away with this small act of defiance, he tiptoed to the door, which was slightly ajar, and listened for any sounds from the rest of the suite, then took a tentative step into the hall. His heart was racing as he took another step forward and he was already thinking about which book he'd get, when a cold voice came from the shadows of Mike and Jason's room just a few steps ahead. _

"_I thought I told you to stay right where you were until I came back."_

_His body froze in terror at the sound of the cold voice. He tried to think of an excuse but could only stammer out the truth. "I . . . I wasn't tired any more so I wanted to get a book to read while I waited for you." But then he'd hung himself by adding the lie, "I . . . I didn't think you'd mind."_

"_You disobeyed my direct order and you . . . didn't . . . think . . . I'd mind," the man taunted as he moved farther into the hall. His hand appeared in a quick blur from the darkness and slapped the side of his head with bone-jarring force. A steady throbbing set in and he stumbled backwards through the bedroom door._

"_I'm sorry! I won't do it again. I'm sorry! Please, please don't!" But the entreaties fell on deaf ears and the blows continued to rain down on him until there was no more backwards left and he stumbled against the side of the bed and fell onto it. Then the blows finally ended, only to give way to other, more inventive punishments. He tried not to scream and instead let darkness and cold settle around him. Then he was drifting again, drifting in the darkness far away from the pain and fear._

* * *

"Got it," Munch called out. "Sold and completely refitted five years ago. It's called the Regis Arms now."

"That's a pretty swanky place," Fin said, "You don't think Justin could have lured David there, do you? Where would he have gotten the money to pay for it? We've got all his credit cards covered."

Stabler thought for a moment, then said, "We've got all his cards covered, but what about the uncle's? What's the hotel's phone number?" he asked as he picked up his phone. Munch rattled off the number and he quickly tapped it in. When the phone at the other end was answered, he requested the manager.

"This is Detective Elliot Stabler of the New York Police Department Special Victims Unit, Shield #6313. I need information on a guest who may be staying at the hotel with regard to an ongoing police investigation."

He listened impatiently as the manager tried to give him the usual runaround regarding hotel guests' right to privacy and the need for a subpoena to release the information before he interrupted coldly. "Mr. Dupre, one of your guests may be committing a murder this very moment, quite possibly in your hotel. If you force me to wait until I have a body on my hands, you can be very sure your hotel is going to be shut down for a good long time while we investigate, and the press will have a field day with the information that the death happened because you were too busy obstructing my investigation to save the victim's life."

The man sputtered incoherently for a moment, then asked in a shellshocked voice, "What is it you need to know, Detective?"

"I need you to check your guest registry for the following names: Justin Graves, Phillip Beaumont and David Gallagher."

There were a few moments of silence broken only by the tapping of a computer keyboard before Dupre returned to the line. "Ambassador Beaumont is registered. He's in Suite 624."

"One more question. How far back do your registration records go?"

"Five years. From the day we opened."

"Do you have anything from when it was the St. Regis?"

"I don't believe so, although they may be in storage."

"Try to locate them. I'll be getting you a subpoena."

"Very well. What should I do about Ambassador Beaumont?"

"Nothing. He's not the one in the room. But you should start calling the other tenants of that floor and get them evacuated. Make up an excuse -- a gas leak or something like that. Our people should be there in about 10 minutes to seal off that floor."

"Dear, Lord!" Dupre muttered before hanging up.

* * *

The darkness was so close, and David wanted desperately to slip back into it, to escape from this horrible nightmare before the monster he knew was lurking just ahead could get him, but the darkness stayed just out of reach and a voice called out to him drawing him back into the dream.

"_Hey. Hey, Danny, you awake?" came an excited voice._

_Danny was the name he was going by this time, so he opened his eyes reluctantly and saw the little redhead perched on the side of the bed looking down at him. "Huh?" he muttered, trying to clear his exhausted brain and remember where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. "What is it? What's wrong?"_

"_Nothing's wrong," the little boy frowned at him. "What's wrong with you? You okay?" The smile had disappeared from his freckled face and he looked worried. "Did you do something wrong? Did he hurt you?" he whispered, glancing furtively toward the door. _

"_I'm fine," he lied. "Just tired."_

_The boy looked down at him with worried eyes, but accepted the lie. "He told me to wake you up if you weren't up already. You need to get up now. Before he gets mad." The boy's eyes were wide and dark, filled with something beyond fear. "We ordered room service for dinner. It'll be here in a few minutes."_

"_Okay," he said automatically as he tried to figure a way to get up that would cause him the least pain. He didn't think his stomach would accept any food, but he'd been summoned so he knew he had to at least try. _

_He felt the boy's eyes on him as he moved stiffly from the bed. Jason had clothes on so he assumed that meant he should get dressed. He went to the bureau and pulled a t-shirt and some loose fitting sweatpants from one of the drawers and pulled them on quickly._

"_I almost forgot," the little boy chirped nervously. "Uncle Mark and me brought you a present at Corny Island. Come see."_

_He couldn't help smiling a little at the boy's excitement. "It's Coney Island not Corny Island, and that was nice of you," he responded with a touch of warmth._

"_Coney Island," the boy repeated intently. "Is that right?"_

"_Yes. That's right. What did you and Mark do at Coney Island?"_

_The boy's face broke into a bright smile. "We played games and went on rides and ate corn dogs and popcorn and cotton candy and lots of other good stuff. It was fun! I wish you could have come with us."_

"_I'm glad you had a good time," he replied, surprised to find that he really meant it. If Mitch had been doing the same things to Jason that he'd been doing to him the last two days, the kid deserved to have a little bit of fun in his life. "What rides did you go on."_

_The boy started talking excitedly and grabbed his hand instinctively as they left the room together. Jason kept chattering while he led him into the living room then to the sofa, where he plopped down beside him as he continued his story. He felt Mitch's eyes on him, but didn't look up, instead concentrating on the little boy and his excited ramblings. Finally, the boy ran out of story and looked excitedly to Mike. "Can I give him his presents now, Uncle Mark?"_

_He glanced over quickly as Mike laughed heartily and said, "Why not?" Mitch was sitting across from Mike at the dinette table. There was a pleasant smile plastered on his face, but his eyes were cold and calculating._

_Jason hopped down from the sofa, grabbed a bag from one of the easy chairs, and eagerly dropped it in his lap. "It's not wrapped all fancy or nothing. Is that okay?"_

"_That's fine," he reassured the child. He felt a solid rectangular object settle against his thighs and felt a thrill of excitement. He gave the little boy a grateful smile and reached into the bag without looking to heighten the surprise. His fingers touched soft jersey material and he pulled it out._

"_It's a t-shirt from Corny, um, I mean Coney," the boy corrected himself carefully, "Island. I have one too. We can be twins."_

"_It's very nice. Thank you," he said. "No one will be able to tell us apart."_

_The boy laughed delightedly. "There's more. Uncle Mark said you'd really like the other one a lot too."_

"_I'm sure I will," he said, casting a grateful look at Mike before reaching into the bag and pulling out a book._

"_It's called 'Treasure Island'," the little boy said. "It's supposed to be really good. It's about pirates! Do you like it?" he added anxiously. "Uncle Mark said you like to read a lot. You haven't read this one already have you?"_

"_I love it. It's one I've been wanting to read for awhile. Thank you for getting it for me."_

_The boy smiled a big happy smile. "Can you read some to me?"_

_This time he did look to Mitch, knowing he'd need the man's permission because this would take time away from him. The man's eyes were still dark and cold, but he nodded imperceptibly. He felt a wave of relief as he smiled down at the little boy and said, "Sure."_

_Jason cuddled up against him and listened intently as he started to read._

* * *

Benson and Stabler led a team of officers into the hotel lobby and flashed their badges at the reception desk staff.

A distinguished looking African American man in his mid forties stepped forward. "I'm Edward Dupre. I believe I spoke to one of you on the phone."

"I'm Detective Stabler. This is my partner, Detective Benson."

"Detectives. What can we do for you?"

"Have you cleared the sixth floor?"

"Everyone's accounted for except the occupants of room 620, but they may have gone out at some point without anyone noticing."

"Get us a key to that room and to 624."

Dupre frowned but gave the order and the keys were quickly handed over. Stabler shouted orders to the officers acting as back up before he and Benson headed to the elevator banks with part of the team while the rest dispersed up the stairwells to cut off any possible escape routes.

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 13**

David moaned, desperate to pull himself out of the dream before it went any further. He didn't want to see what happened next, didn't want to have to feel any more of that boy's pain. 'It's not real, it's not real, it's just a dream,' he kept repeating over and over in his head, but still he couldn't break free.

_He was laying in the big bed, naked, with only a lightweight sheet tossed haphazardly over the lower half of his body. He felt cold, but not from the lack of clothing or blankets. This cold came from within. It barely managed to numb the pain and only took the slightest edge off the fear._

'_Just twenty four hours to go before this nightmare is over.' The thought was meant to comfort, but he wasn't sure he could make it that long. A voice penetrated the pain, but he couldn't react quickly enough. A hand tightened around his upper arm and dragged him off the bed. Mitch was angry, but there was that gleam in his eyes that gave away his delight at having an excuse to punish._

_He didn't move or try to fight back. He'd already been desperate enough to make that mistake and he'd paid dearly for it. This monster knew how to inflict pain and he could inflict the most excruciating pain without leaving a mark. And he delighted in it. The only defense was to not give him any kind of provocation, which was almost impossible since most of the time the man gave him no clue what he'd done wrong to anger him in the first place._

_Mitch circled him like a predator preparing for the kill while he remained perfectly still, trying not to tremble or cry despite the fear that was tearing his guts to shreds. Before the man could make his move, there was a knock on the bedroom door. A frown crossed Mitch's face as he snarled, "What is it?"_

"_The camera's set up. We're ready to do the pictures now," came Mike's animated voice from the other side of the door._

"_We'll be right there," Mitch called out in a calmer, more relaxed voice. Then he stepped closer and whispered in his ear, "We'll finish this later," before leaning over and kissing him deeply as he delivered a quick rabbit punch to his kidney._

A sharp pain in his side shocked him out of the dream and David drifted to consciousness, lured by the droning of a voice in the distance. It was hard to concentrate on the words B something about pirates and treasure. He opened his eyes reluctantly, acutely aware of the pain in his ribs, shoulder and the side of his face pulsing through him. He tried to move and couldn't help moaning at the fresh pain that scissored through his body.

The droning voice stopped and he heard a rustle of movement nearby. "It's about time you woke up." Justin's voice was sulky, but there was also a hint of fear in it.

"Wh . . . why?" David forced out, finding it hard to form the word through the pain as he moved his head in the direction Justin's voice had come from.

"Why? Why what? Why did I hit you? That should be self-evident you lying, backstabbing shit. After everything I've done for you, all I had to do to get you here was say it was him. You couldn't get here fast enough could you? The three of you must have had quite a party last night."

David's searching eyes finally located Justin sitting on the floor with his back against a wall a few feet from where he was sprawled. The redhead's face was pale and blotchy, his cheeks still damp with recently shed tears. He had pulled his legs up against him and his arms were clutching a book protectively against his chest. David could only stare at him uncomprehendingly as he tried to make sense of Justin's accusation.

"What? Did you really think I wasn't watching? That I didn't see your boyfriend and his bitch show up at your place at midnight? Did you think I didn't know they never left? That I didn't see the three of you head out together at 8 a.m., laughing and joking like you were the three musketeers, riding off to court to screw me over? Was it worth it, David? Was he a good enough fuck to make it worth selling me out?"

"I . . . I didn't . . . ."

"Don't lie to me!" Justin roared. "Don't you ever lie to me."

"I'm . . . not." It was so hard to force the words out, but he tried anyway. "It . . . it wasn't just a dream, was it? We . . . we were here before."

Justin sat up straighter, dropped his legs back to the floor and absently laid the book down as he leaned forward intently. "You finally remember."

David couldn't help noticing the cover of the book as Justin laid it down B "Treasure Island". Another stab of pain B this time through his heart B as he realized Justin had been reading the book they had shared so long ago to him as he lay unconscious on the floor. "Yes," he responded sadly. "I remember."

"Then you understand now . . . why I had to do it. You realize we were always meant to be together."

"I . . . ,"

But Justin wasn't listening. He was lost in his own memories. "Why did you do it, David? Why did you defy him like that? Nobody's ever done anything like that for me before and it was such a stupid thing to do. He would've killed you if Mark hadn't stopped him; you know that, don't you? And I didn't care if you did it. It wouldn't have hurt me. I didn't care. I loved you so much; I just wanted us to stay together forever."

David opened his mouth to say he didn't know what Justin was talking about, but suddenly the rest of the memory was there as though it had been dropped into his brain like a grenade. It might well have been because the repercussions of it were just as devastating.

_He followed Mitch out of the bedroom, moving as carefully as he could to keep the pain at bay. He felt a stab of anger and resentment at Mike, knowing he had to suspect what was going on, how bad it was, but was ignoring it. He couldn't help the bitter thought that Mike was so enamored with his new little friend, he would have given Mitch, or allowed him to do, just about anything to keep the boy. _

_It had to be some terrible cosmic irony that the little redhead who had arrived with such a solemn face was now giggling and laughing as he and Mike wrestled on the floor in a tickling match. There'd been a time Mike had been like that with him and he'd never appreciated how good he'd had it then. It had been a big step down from the life he'd led before, but he'd never dreamed how much worse it could get. _

_He almost wished he could go back to being Mike's pet boy again, but he'd committed the ultimate sin, he'd dared to continue growing. The change in Mike's attitude toward him had been gradual, but it had been noticeable. Still it had been a horrible shock the day Mike had called him into the house they were living in at the time to find a little blond boy sitting in the man's lap. And he'd been totally unprepared when Mike told him to go into the bedroom and do whatever the man who was in there told him to. That had been almost a year before and there had been a lot of other men since then. But none as bad as this one. No wonder the little redhead was smiling and happy. He'd probably never had it this good before. Good was such a relative concept._

_David moved automatically, trying to ignore the pain that radiated through his body. He laid down on the floor and settled himself into the pose Mike had suggested for the first picture. Mitch kneeled behind him and brushed his hand along his hip. He forced himself not to flinch or shiver at the touch as he listened to Justin erupt into a fresh gale of laughter beside him. He wanted to hate the kid, but he couldn't. None of this was his fault. _

_There were several more poses, then Mike said they were done. David slowly got to his feet but froze when he heard Mitch say something to Mike. He knew he had to have heard it wrong but the knot of fear in his stomach tightened even further._

"_What do you mean, no?" Mitch snapped angrily. "Why not?"_

"_It wasn't part of our agreement," Mike responded unhappily._

"_So we revise our agreement. What's the big deal? You need to be more flexible if you're really serious about all of us moving in together."_

"_I don't know," Mike wavered, clearly anxious not to derail their proposed alliance and possibly lose his new pet._

"_Let them try. You can stop it if you really don't like it."_

"_NO!" The word erupted from David's mouth. The lump that filled his throat after the word escaped was so big it practically choked him, but it was too late to take it back. And he didn't want to even if he could. He'd been wondering all week why Mitch had been allowing him to sit and read to Jason every night. He'd thought it might be an act for Mike's sake, something to make him believe he was seriously considering Mike's ridiculous suggestion about them moving in together, but now he understood what the man's amused smiles as he'd watched the boys sitting together reading had really been all about. _

"_What did you say?" Mitch's voice was heavy with threat._

_He was trembling violently but he forced the words out. "No! I won't do it!"_

"_You'll do whatever the hell I tell you to do," Mitch said in that low threatening voice as he grabbed him by the upper arm. "Now get down there on the floor with him."_

"_No!" The word barely croaked out of him._

_Mitch still had him tightly by the arm. He saw the man's fist come flying toward his face, but there was no way to escape it. Pain rocketed through him as the blow connected and he staggered backwards not able to go far with the hand still tightening around his arm. "You will!" Mitch threw him on the floor beside Jason. "Now do it!"_

"_No!"_

_Mitch raised his hand again but Justin crawled over to David and put his arms around his neck. His voice quavered as he said, "It's okay. It doesn't hurt that bad. Just don't make him mad, please."_

_The younger boy's eyes were huge with fear, but David pushed him away, trying to battle his own terror and the little voice inside that was saying, 'Are you crazy? Don't provoke him any more. Just do what he wants. You heard the kid, he doesn't care.' _

"_I won't! You can't make me! I won't do it! I won't!"_

_Mitch's face was apoplectic with fury and David watched in abject terror as the man stalked toward him with both fists raised._

"_STOP IT!" Mike was down on the floor beside them holding the sobbing redhead in his arms. _

_The look of stunned disbelief on the man's face stopped Mitch in his tracks -- but not for long. "Stop? You've got the nerve to tell me to stop? You guaranteed me he'd be obedient and do anything I told him to do, but he's done nothing but talk back and disobey me since the day we got here. If you're not going to teach him his place, I will!"_

_David was shocked when Mike stood his ground. "Our deal was neither of us would hurt the other's boy without permission. You don't have my permission."_

_Mitch was trembling with barely contained fury. "Is that so? If that's how you feel, then maybe we should forget this nonsense about moving in together and I should leave right now -- with Jason."_

_Mike looked down at the boy huddled in terror in his arms, then looked at David kneeling on the floor a short distance away. Shock and horror crossed his face as he realized the decision he was being forced to make. _

_David closed his eyes, already knowing what Mike's choice would be and waiting for the blows to fall because he didn't intend to give in. He knew he would probably die this time, but there was nothing left to live for anyway. Only more years of this pain and misery. He was so busy bracing himself for the anticipated attack he almost didn't hear Mike's words._

"_Maybe you should."_

_David opened his eyes and looked at Mike in disbelief. The man's face was set in a stern, implacable line but his arms were still around Justin._

_The bald man was staring at Mike too. "Come here, Jason."_

_Justin gave a small, frightened whimper and looked up at Mike with beseeching eyes._

_Mike looked away from the boy, but David could see the effort it took. Then Mike finally let go of him. Justin stood there for a moment looking shocked and confused, then slowly crossed the room to Mitch. The man's dark, soulless eyes glared at Mike in fury for another long moment, then he grabbed the boy's arm and dragged him across the room to the bedroom. There was the sound of cursing and several loud bangs from the bedroom, then five minutes later they emerged fully dressed with their luggage in tow. Mitch had the redhead's arm in a death grip and dragged him out of the suite with tears running down his face._

_David stayed on his knees on the floor, unmoving, not sure what he was supposed to do next. _

_After remaining frozen in the dazed silence that had filled the room at Mitch and Justin's abrupt departure for a few more minutes, Mike finally came over to him and kneeled beside him, reaching out a hand to tentatively touch his shoulder. "How badly did he hurt you?"_

_David forced himself not to flinch away from the touch, but tears swam in his eyes and he looked down at the floor without answering._

"_Go get dressed, David. We're getting out of here._"

"Why did you do it, David? Why? I never understood it. He would have killed you. You have to have known that."

The sound of Justin's voice jerked him out of the memory, which, unlike the previous ones where he'd felt a sense of detachment, as though he'd been watching all those terrible things happen to someone else, had felt real and substantial, as if it were actually happening to him right at that moment. Still caught in the emotional maelstrom the memory had stirred up in him, he could only answer numbly, "I kn . . . know. I wish he had."

"What? Why? Why would you say that?"

"Then I wouldn't have to be here again, like this."

Justin crawled over to him and plopped down beside him, staring down into his eyes. He gently reached out to caress the uninjured side of David's face. "I'm sorry I hit you, but you made me so mad. You really hurt me and I just wanted to hurt you back."

A tear slid down David's face as he got a closer look at Justin and realized that the words 'Coney Island, New York' were emblazoned over a scene of the amusement pier on the lovingly worn and faded t-shirt he was wearing. It wasn't the same design as the one on the shirts from nine years ago, but the very idea that it meant enough to Justin for him to have replaced it, filled him with sadness. Realizing he'd lost his focus and needed to respond to what Justin had just said, he forced out the simple truth, "You did."

Justin wrapped his arms around his legs and laid his head on his knees. "Why did you do it?"

David swallowed hard. Talking hurt so much, but he could feel the darkness closing in now and the words were the only things keeping it at bay. "He wanted me to do it so he could make me be like him. He wanted to make me a monster. But I never want to be like him. Not ever."

Justin sat quietly for a moment, continuing to stare down at him. "But I'm just like him, David, aren't I. I'm a monster, just like him."

David squeezed his eyes closed, fighting back the pain and the terrible sadness Justin's words evoked. "It's not your fault, Justin. Ms. Novak said you can go to a hospital instead of jail. There'll be doctors there who can help you. And they won't let anybody hurt you any more."

"No," Justin said numbly. "I don't want to go to prison and I don't want to be in any loony bin. I thought if I could just find you again everything would be all right. We could take care of each other, love each other."

"I'm sorry, Justin," David murmured, trying to fight the darkness that was settling around him.

"Don't you see, David? Nobody else can ever love us as completely as we'll love each other because we'll never have to keep any secrets. We can never tell any of them the complete truth. They wouldn't understand, and even if they tried, they wouldn't be able to comprehend it. We can tell each other everything, everything bad that happened and then the pain will finally go away. We won't have to keep it hidden inside any more. Then we can be normal - just like everybody else."

"Justin . . . ."

"You know he never forgot about you, David. He talked about you all the time. About how much he wanted you and what he was going to do to you when he got you back. He ranted and raved for months, and the whole time he took it out on me. I was never good enough for him. I was too small and scrawny and plain B an all around disappointment to him my entire life. The only time I was of any use was when he could trade me for somebody better. And you were the ultimate prize.

"It's so ironic that just when I thought he'd gotten over it, that he was going to give up his obsession with you, that damn newspaper came. I knew something was up the minute I saw the smile on his face. I don't think I ever saw him looking that happy before. Then I saw your picture and I knew he was going after you. You were finally free and he was going to steal you away and make you a prisoner again. I couldn't let that happen.

"So I watched and waited and kept feeding him more booze while he celebrated all day until he was so drunk he could hardly stand up. He told me he wanted us to go upstairs so he could practice all the things he was going to do to you when he got you back. I hated him so much for wanting to hurt us, but I was scared too. I was so sure he knew what I was planning, that he was just pretending not to know so he could punish me worse when I tried it, but it turned out to be so easy. When I got to the top of the stairs, I just turned around and pushed him as hard as I could. You should have seen the look on his face. He was so surprised. He couldn't believe I'd done it.

"Then he was at the bottom of the stairs and he was bleeding all over the floor. He moaned and twitched a couple of times, then he stopped. I sat there for a long time just staring at him, sure he was going to suddenly jump up and come after me like the monsters in those horror movies, but he didn't. Then it was morning. I went over and touched him to make sure he wasn't faking. His skin was so cold I knew he was really dead. Then I called for the ambulance, but it was too late. He was dead and both of us were finally free.

"I killed him to save you, David. I did it all to save you. Now it's your turn to save me."

"How?" David's voice was so weak it was barely audible.

"Just love me, David. That's all I want. That's all I ever wanted. Please just tell me you love me," Justin pleaded as he gently caressed David's cheek. "I know I can be a better person if you would just love me," he whispered as he leaned over to kiss him.

* * *


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 14**

"Do we have a visual from the next building yet?" Stabler asked in hushed tones as the team gathered around the door to the suite.

Munch spoke rapidly into a radio before responding, "They're seeing movement in the master bedroom, although the curtains aren't open wide enough for them to see exactly what's going on."

"You've all seen the floorplan," Benson said. "Through this door is the living room, kitchen to the left, door to the balcony straight ahead, hallway to the bedrooms on the right. Master bedroom and bath are through the door and to the left, second bedroom with connecting door to the main bathroom to the right. Elliot and I are going straight for the master bedroom. There's also a balcony entrance to the master bedroom that needs to be covered. The rest of you spread out through the suite. If he gets past us, he's not to get past the rest of you. Is that clear?"

As the others acknowledged the orders, Stabler took the room key and inserted it in the lock, then carefully opened the door and stepped into the dark room, his weapon at the ready. Benson stepped in behind him covering the opposite side of the room. The rest of the team entered quietly and two men headed for the balcony door. Benson and Stabler moved to the hallway door and opened it carefully. After checking that it was clear, Stabler slipped through the door and made his way silently toward the master bedroom, with Benson right behind him.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar allowing some light to filter into the darkened hallway. In its pale glow, Stabler made out a smear of dark, tacky blood on the carpet as he approached the room. He looked at Benson then nodded toward the stain. Her gaze followed his and she looked back at him, eyes full of sadness as she acknowledged with a nod that she'd seen it.

They moved closer and the droning of a voice grew more distinct, " . . . he was really dead. Then I called for the ambulance, but it was too late. He was dead and both of us were finally free.

"I killed him to save you, David. I did it all to save you. Now it's your turn to save me."

"How?" David's voice was so weak it was barely audible.

"Just love me, David. That's all I want. That's all I ever wanted. Please just tell me you love me. I know I can be a better person if you would just love me."

Stabler slid down to his knees, crawled the last few feet to the doorway and gently nudged the door open a little wider. He winced as he heard David's soft, pain-filled voice on the other side of the room, but tried to ignore it and the large smear of blood that ran along the carpet where Justin had dragged David into the room, as he brought up his gun and settled into firing position.

"I do love you Justin. I really do. Please let me help you."

"Do you, David? Do you really love me?"

"Yes."

"And do you promise we'll be together forever."

"If that's what you want."

"It is," Justin said softly as he slid the hunting knife out of its sheath. "We'll be together forever."

Stabler's heart raced with fear when David didn't respond and he leaned further into the room. "Police! Drop it now or I'll shoot!"

Justin's head shot around in surprise and he screamed, "No!" when he saw Stabler. He quickly lifted the knife and moved to plunge it into David's chest.

Benson shouted, "Get the knife, Elliot," right before two shots rang out.

Stabler barreled forward, crashing into Justin's body as it fell over David's and knocking it clear just before the knife still clutched loosely in its owner's dead fingers sliced the other man's stomach open.

* * *

Benson and Stabler strode briskly down the hospital corridor, checking room numbers as they passed, until they finally found the one they had been seeking. They entered to find Jessica Langford seated in the guest chair, surrounded by several baskets of flowers and 'Get Well Soon' balloons, holding David's hand. 

The injured man was lying in the bed, his eyes closed. His face was turned away from them, but as they moved closer they could see the edge of the bandage that covered the left side of his face, protecting the twelve stitches that had been required to close the gaping wound to the side of his head. There had been a severe concussion, as well as several hairline fractures in the skull that would heal on their own with time. His left arm was in a sling to ease the pressure on the badly mangled shoulder that had taken the brunt of the first blow.

The doctor had told them when David was first brought in that the shoulder injury had most likely saved the young man's life. If he'd taken the full force of that blow directly to the side of his head, it would have killed him instantly. Justin's heart obviously had not been in the second blow since it had only broken two ribs. Serious injuries, but David would live and that was the most important thing right now, Benson thought, as she greeted the fragile-looking blond. "Hi, Jessica."

The woman looked up wearily, but the ghost of a smile lit her face when she recognized the detectives. "Hi, Olivia, Elliot. How are you today?"

"We're fine," Benson replied with a smile.

"How's the patient?" Stabler asked.

The girl's smile faltered a little. "The doctor said there's no longer any danger of him dying. But a full recovery is going to take some time."

"I see they removed the respirator. Has he woken up at all?"

"Oh, yes. At first it was only for a few minutes at a time every couple of hours, but today it's been better. He's been waking every hour or two and staying awake 10 or 15 minutes at a time." Her smile grew a little brighter and she wiped a tear from her eye. "He even recognized me the last couple of times. He's still having a little trouble speaking, but he said my name, asked where he was and what happened. I don't think he remembers what happened at the hotel yet."

"The doctor told us it's possible he may never remember that," Benson said gently. "A trauma that severe to the head can damage short term memory and cause partial amnesia."

"Maybe it's better if he doesn't," Jessica said softly as she leaned over and brushed a stray lock of hair from David's forehead.

"You look exhausted," Benson said sympathetically. "Have you had anything to eat today?"

Jessica looked at her blankly, then shook her head. "No. I didn't want to leave him. I didn't want to risk him waking up alone and not knowing where he is."

"I can stay with him for a little while if you two want to go down to the cafeteria and pick up some food," Stabler offered.

Jessica looked hesitantly from Stabler to the sleeping man, before replying, "Well, if you really don't mind, I guess it's okay. I know he trusts you. I won't be long."

"Take your time," Stabler said with an encouraging smile. "You need to give yourself a break or you'll burn yourself out."

Jessica nodded then stood up and leaned over to kiss David on the forehead. "I'll be back in a few minutes, sweetheart," she said softly. "Elliot is going to sit with you for a little while." She gave his hand a gentle squeeze then laid it carefully on the bed before crossing the room to Benson.

After the women left, Stabler settled himself in the guest chair and picked up a magazine from the pile Jessica had stacked by the chair. He thumbed through it casually, glancing up every few minutes to check on the patient. He'd been there about twenty minutes when he looked up and was surprised to see a pair of hazy blue eyes staring blearily at him.

Leaning over to take the hand Jessica had been holding earlier, he said softly. "Hi, David. It's me. Elliot Stabler. Detective Stabler. Do you remember me?"

David started to nod, but pain crossed his face at the movement and his eyes slid closed against it for a moment. He opened them again and tried to smile weakly, as he lifted his right hand and gestured toward the cup of water on the tray table by the bed. Stabler leaned over to get the cup and held the straw to David's parched lips. The injured man took several sips then motioned for Stabler to take the cup away.

"Elliot." The word was barely a croak.

"That's right, David. It's Elliot."

"I'm sorry, Elliot. I'm so sorry." The words were weak and slightly slurred.

"There's nothing to be sorry about, David. We know Justin tricked you into going to the hotel. I'm just glad we got to you in time."

"No, not that. I'm sorry for . . . for not believing in you. For doubting you. I'm so sorry."

The words hit Stabler like a physical blow. There had been some things about that horrible night at the hotel that had been inexplicable, but the SVU team had written them off as manifestations of Justin's increasing loss of control. They'd been stupefied when the CSI team going through the hotel suite had found his trenchcoat in the living room and the suit and dress shirt he'd changed out of before going to court that morning in the bedroom.

The unit they'd sent to check his house discovered that when Justin broke in, he'd not only trashed the bedroom but scrawled in red spray paint on one of the walls -- 'How Does It Feel Knowing Somebody's Been Pawing Through YOUR Stuff!' They'd assumed the clothes were a trophy and none of them had thought any more about why they'd been left in the places they'd been found. Now he understood and the very idea of it filled him with sick horror.

"Elliot," the word was almost a plea, so soft and so full of sadness, Stabler immediately pulled his attention back to the young man in the bed.

The words stuck in his throat but he finally forced out, "I understand, David. Justin deliberately set the whole thing up to trick you. It wasn't your fault. Don't blame yourself. I don't."

"I'm so sorry," Gallagher whispered again.

Stabler felt sick to his stomach, but forced himself to say again, "It's okay, David. I understand."

"What is it? What's wrong?" came Jessica's frantic voice from the doorway, before she rushed into the room and over to the bed, the cup of coffee clutched in her hand all but forgotten.

"Nothing's wrong," Stabler said forcing a smile as he got up to give her back the chair. "David woke up a few minutes ago and we were just chatting a little until you came back."

Jessica looked suspiciously from Stabler to Gallagher and back again before saying, "Are you sure?"

"I am," Stabler replied. "The good news is he recognizes me."

Jessica smiled at that. "That is good news."

"We need to get going," Stabler said, "but we'll stop in again tomorrow."

As soon as the detectives walked out of the room after saying their goodbyes, Benson pounced on her partner. "What happened Elliot? Why are you so upset?"

"What makes you think I'm upset?" Stabler snapped irritably.

Benson shot him a look that said 'I've been your partner long enough to know.'

"He remembers everything that happened, Liv. All of it. Especially the part where Justin lured him there by pretending to be me."

"We knew that already, Ell."

"David said he was sorry, Liv. Sorry for not believing in me. Sorry for doubting me."

"Why would he say . . . ?" Stabler watched the light of realization flick on in his partner's eyes. "Oh my God! That bastard!"

"Yeah."

* * *


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 15**

Stabler's cellphone chirped insistently. Irritated at the interruption, he pulled it out of his pocket and snapped into it, "Stabler."

"Elliot?" The voice was soft and hesitant but he knew immediately who it was.

"Hi, David. How are you?"

"I'm good. I was released from the hospital yesterday. Jess is throwing a little homecoming party and we were wondering if you and Olivia had time to stop by for a little while." He hesitated for a moment, "It's been awhile since we've seen you and we wanted another chance to say thanks for everything you did."

Stabler felt guilt nibbling at his conscience but pushed it away. He'd gone to the hospital for short visits twice more after David's confession but had decided it was in everyone's best interest to distance himself from the situation. Unfortunately the distance hadn't helped him any. He'd spent several sleepless nights watching the copy of the video he'd taken from Gert, not to see the sex acts being performed, but to look at the faces of the men waiting their turns. Examining the looks on their faces -- some bored or disinterested, but others wolfish and predatory, anticipating what they were about to do with something close to glee. Wondering how many of them had known or at least suspected something wasn't right, but had made the conscious decision to do nothing about it.

He found himself more and more often looking into the mirror -- trying to see if that same predatory expression was in his own eyes, if there really was a monster lurking inside him. Someone who hid despicable acts behind a smokescreen of kindness. Someone like Mike or Mitch or Kristian. David had believed it was possible, he'd had doubts. Maybe the boy's instincts were right. Maybe there really was something inside him that should be feared.

It had to be more than just his anger and frustration that had driven Kathy away. There had to be something else that had stolen his wife, his children, his family, the best part of his life from him, and along with them taken his peace of mind and his only sanctuary from the parade of horrors that polluted his every working day. It was sadly ironic that it had even almost cost him that job more than once. The therapy sessions seemed to be helping, but what if that was just a smokescreen too, an attempt to bury the monster that was surfacing inside him instead of killing it outright.

"It's nice of you to ask, David. But I'm pretty swamped right now. I'll ask Olivia if she can make it for both of us."

"I really wish you'd come Elliot. I'm . . . I'm really sorry for what I said at the hospital. I know you're mad at me because of it, but it was something I needed to say. Something I needed you to know. I really wish we could get together and talk about it. You've done so much for Jess and me, and we're really grateful for all your help. I don't want you to be mad at me."

Stabler sighed heavily and raised his other hand to his forehead to rub away the ache steadily gathering in his temple. "I'm not mad at you, David, and there's nothing to talk about. Everything is fine. I'm just really busy right now."

Gallagher was silent for a moment and his voice was raw with suppressed emotion when he finally spoke again. "Right. Sure. I can understand that. Sorry to bother you. Bye."

Stabler stood holding the phone with the dial tone buzzing in his ear for several long moments, before finally shutting it off.

Olivia Benson knocked on the apartment door and smiled brightly when it was opened.

"Olivia! Thank you so much for coming," Jessica said with a bright smile of her own as she accepted the bottle of wine the detective offered. "David is going to be so happy you made it. I'm making pasta and meatballs. I hope that's okay with you?"

"That sounds great."

"Hi, Jessica."

The girl's eyes widened in surprise as she saw Elliot Stabler standing a few feet back in the hallway clutching a bouquet of flowers and looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"Elliot! This is a surprise. David said you couldn't make it. He'll be so happy to see you."

"I can't stay very long," the detective responded as he stepped forward and offered her the flowers, "but I wanted to stop by and see how both of you are doing." The truth was that Olivia had hammered him with guilt until he agreed to come, but the girl didn't need to know that.

Jessica's smile faltered a little but she said, "The doctors say full recovery is going to take awhile. He has a lot to deal with. He took Justin's death very hard. He knows there was no other choice, but it's eating at him that he couldn't figure a way to get Justin to surrender peacefully."

"He takes too much on himself," Stabler said quietly. "There was nothing he could have done. Justin was determined to kill them both. Nobody was going to change his mind."

"I know that and I think deep down inside David knows it too, but it doesn't make it any easier for him being the one left alive."

"Where is he?"

"He went up to the roof for a little while to think. The landlord is an amateur astronomer and keeps a telescope up there. David isn't all that interested in stargazing but he does like to go up there sometimes to clear his head. I'm not sure how long he plans to stay there, so you might want to go up now to see him if you really can't stay."

Elliot wanted to sigh in resignation, but restrained himself. "Okay. How do I get there?"

* * *

Stabler stepped out onto the roof and immediately saw the telescope set up in the center of the open space. Gallagher was nowhere in sight. He walked carefully around the astronomy equipment and circled to the left to begin a circuit of the roof. He found David on the other side lounging in a camp chair, his left arm now fully casted and cradled against him in a sling, using the small wall surrounding the roof as a footrest as he stared forlornly out over the city.

"Hi, David."

The young man looked up, startled; a look of surprise crossed his face before it finally settled into a cautious smile. "Elliot. You came after all."

"Yeah."

"I'm glad. Pull up a seat and make yourself comfortable."

"I can't stay long," Stabler said as he sat down in what he presumed to be Jessica's camp chair. "I've got a lot of work backed up and some personal things I need to deal with."

Stabler caught the look of disappointment that flickered briefly across the young man's face before his eyes were drawn to the faded bruising and discoloration on the left side of his face and the barely visible scar where the stitches had been.

"It was nice of you to make time to stop by. I appreciate it."

They sat silently for several minutes, neither one knowing what to say. Then they started speaking at the same time.

"Elliot, I'm really . . . ."

"David, I'm not mad . . . ."

They both laughed and it eased the tension a little.

"Okay, you're not mad," David said, "but what I said bothered you."

"Yes."

"I know you're not one of the monsters, Elliot. I know you'd never do anything to hurt me. I've always known it. Sometimes it's just really hard for me to let myself trust completely in people, to believe in them. I've been disappointed so many times before.

"I know everything Justin said about you was a lie to manipulate me into doing what he wanted, and I knew that as he was saying it. But when I got to the hotel it seemed so familiar and I had this terrible sense of _deja vu_, like something awful that had happened before was getting ready to happen all over again. It was like somebody reached into my brain and brought my deepest fears to life.

"I wanted to trust you so badly, but I was so scared. It seems like every time I've trusted anyone since my parents died, it's been a disaster. Mike seemed so nice when I first went to live with him and his wife, but then he turned into a monster. Kristian was really good to me for awhile, but then he just dumped me at the mall and walked away. Then I was sent back here and was told I had to live with the Spencers. After what happened with Mike, I refused to trust them. I kept waiting for the day they'd turn on me, but after awhile they broke through my defenses. I finally started to feel like we were a real family and I was a normal teenager again. Then one day their brakes failed, their car was broadsided by a tractor trailer and they were gone, just like my parents.

"When I walked into that hotel room, it felt like everything had come full circle and all the bad stuff that happened there nine years ago was happening all over again. And I didn't know how to stop it. I didn't mean to hurt you, Elliot. I really didn't. Sometimes it's just easier to believe the worst about people. Then it doesn't hurt as much when they disappoint you."

Stabler was silent for a moment, absorbing what the young man had said and trying to get his own scattered thoughts in order. "I understand where you're coming from, David. I do. I probably would have felt the same way if I'd been in your shoes.

"I've spent a lot of time lately thinking about what you said and why it's been bothering me so much. I don't know if you remember, but the first time we met, in the Dean's office, you thought I was Kristian and kept calling me by his name. When I found out who he was, what he'd done to you, it made me crazy. I couldn't stand the thought of you, or anyone else, mistaking me for someone who would abuse a helpless child like that.

"Elliot, I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to think that. I . . ."

"Don't be sorry, David. There's no reason for it, because what's going on with me isn't just because of you and what you said. It's something that's been building for a long time, for a lot of reasons that have nothing to do with you.

"I've always seen myself as one of the good guys. A cop who puts himself on the line every day to protect the people he loves, to protect the innocent who can't fight for themselves. I've always been proud of that. Always been proud of who and what I was and what I stood for. So when you said that to me in the hospital, and I realized what Justin had done and that you'd believed it, it sent me into a tailspin, making me doubt all the things I'd always believed about the kind of person I am.

"I kept thinking about when I was growing up, how my father used to tell me I was a worthless screwup who would never amount to anything. He never forgave me for getting Kathy pregnant when we were so young, and no matter what I did to try and make up for the mistakes I'd made, it was never good enough. For years I've fought his ghost wanting to prove he was wrong. Wanting to be seen as the white knight who rides in and saves the day. But it seems like no matter how many bad guys I take down or put in jail there's a dozen more to take their place.

"I've spent my life fighting for justice but sometimes it seems like justice doesn't exist any more, so what have I wasted my life fighting for? Has it all been a waste? I think of all the times I missed my kids' plays, birthday parties, sporting events or just the chance to tuck them in bed at night to go that extra mile to catch some child molester or rapist only to have some hot shot lawyer get the case thrown out or pleaded down because of some legal technicality. Every time that happens I feel that knot of anger grow inside me. And I wonder why I bothered. If justice doesn't really exist any more why should I fight so hard for it?

"Then last year my wife of twenty years finally had enough; she took our four kids and left me. She said it's because I have anger management issues -- that there's this rage bottled up inside me that I can't seem to let go of or get under control. And she's right. It just sits there inside me, eating at my gut, poisoning all the good things I have in my life. And I can't seem to do anything about it. It just keeps building and building. A couple of months ago I lost control and almost killed my former partner when I caught him beating up his son. I was totally out of control and that scared the shit out of me. Made me wonder what else I might be capable of doing if I ever lost control like that again.

"There are lots of days I think how much easier it would be if we could just shoot the perps on sight and not waste so much time on all the legal bullshit. The scariest part is the idea has become so tempting, I'm afraid one day I might just try it. Then what kind of person, what kind of man will I be? Will I still be one of the good guys or just a different kind of monster."

David had listened silently, respectfully. He waited a moment before responding, "There were so many times while I was on the run with Mike and even after I came back that I just wanted my life to be over. It hurt too much to keep going, to keep getting out of bed every morning trying to pretend I was just like everybody else. I've been so afraid that what he did to me, what he let all the others do to me, infected me somehow, or broke something inside of me that can never be fixed. I keep waiting for the day when I turn into one of the monsters, just like them.

"That night at the hotel I realized the reason Justin was drawn to me is because I defied his father. He never saw anybody do that before. He thought it meant I was brave. But I wasn't brave, he was the brave one, the one who finally got the courage to kill Mitch. He didn't understand that I was being selfish, not brave -- the only reason I defied Mitch was because he was trying to force me to do something terrible, something that would make me just as big a monster as he was, and I would've rather died than be like him. I never want to be the kind of person who would hurt somebody else just for the fun of it, or even just to save his own neck.

"It sounds so noble when I say it out loud like that, but the real truth is, I was hurting so bad, I wanted to die to escape the pain, to escape that life. I knew Mitch would kill me for defying him and I comforted myself thinking that at least I'd die knowing I hadn't let them turn me into one of them. But Mike did something totally unexpected that surprised the hell out of me, and I'm still here, still alive.

"I've spent a lot of time wondering how and why that happened, but mostly I've spent the time struggling with my demons. Struggling with the fear of losing control, the terror of wondering if all the terrible things I saw and experienced are a time bomb ticking inside me, waiting to go off. It's been like that for a long time, with me just sitting around, waiting for the catalyst that would set me off.

"Then Justin came into my life. I didn't remember him at first, but even though I could tell he was trouble, I couldn't send him away. Something inside me recognized him as the little redheaded boy from the hotel nine years ago despite having buried that memory so deep I didn't even remember it had happened. I think subconsciously I wanted to see how he'd turned out to know if there was any hope for me.

Gallagher turned his intense blue eyes to Stabler, "And now I know the truth, Elliot. I know what I'm going to become. Justin came for me because he knows we're the same. We were forged in the fires of the same dark hell, and one day I'm going to snap just like he did and somebody is going to get hurt. I don't want that. I don't want to ever hurt anybody the way those men hurt me. I'd rather be dead. I wish . . . I wish you would have just let me die with him."

"Don't ever wish that, David," Stabler said emphatically. "You're not like Justin. Justin never had anything good in his life, he never knew what it was to be loved or to be happy. We found out from his uncle that the man who raised him, who claimed to be his father, wasn't his biological father. He met a girl, a runaway with a drug problem, who was pregnant and unmarried. He married her so he could claim the child as his own, and then one day she just disappeared -- although we can't prove it, there's a good chance he killed her.

"He was a pedophile all along and all he'd ever wanted was that child. Justin spent his entire life in that poisonous environment, never being loved or accepted, never being seen as good enough by the man who stole his life."

"I know Justin was the way he was because of his father, Elliot. Because of the horrible things his father did to him all those years. And I know there probably wasn't anything anybody could have done to fix him. That he was too far gone for anybody to save him. But sometimes I think the same thing is true of me - after all the terrible things I've seen and done and been part of, that I'm too far gone too, that it's too late for anybody to fix me either."

"You're not like Justin, David. Not even close. Do you want to know who you really are? Where you really come from?"

Gallagher looked over at him with haunted eyes.

Stabler reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture.

David took the picture and tears filled his eyes as he looked at the smiling, middle-aged couple standing next to a sign for a museum exhibit. The man held a small boy, whose face was stretched into delighted laughter while the woman had her arms loosely draped around both of them, with her forehead resting against the little boy's.

"That's who you are, that's where you come from -- Victor and Linda Gallagher -- two loving people who wanted nothing more than to have a child and to love him. And for seven years they poured all the love they had into raising you. All that love is still there inside you, David. You could never be like Justin. There's no dark place inside you for that evil to put down roots. Your parents made sure of that. They made sure you knew the difference between good and bad, the difference between right and wrong, and most importantly they made sure you know what it feels like to be loved.

"No one can ever take that away from you, David, not Mike, not Justin's father, not any of the other men who hurt you while you were away. Not even Justin. Because that's what he really wanted all along. He saw that light shining in you and he wanted it for himself. And he couldn't bear knowing that no matter what he did, no matter how much he tried to hurt you, to beat you down, to dominate you, that he could never steal that light from you. That he could never be you.

"Your parents loved you David, they still love you with all their hearts wherever their souls happen to be. Your heart knows that. That's why you saw your mother in that dream."

"I know." David held the picture clutched in his hand as he used his sleeve to wipe away a lingering tear. I know you probably think I'm crazy, Elliot, but, even though it wasn't true, I'm glad I told Justin I loved him. I'm glad he died believing somebody cared about him. Because that's all he ever really wanted -- somebody to love him.

"But I don't know what to do about me now. I'm really scared, Elliot. I love Jess so much it hurts inside. All I want is to touch her, to kiss her, to make love to her. I want it so bad sometimes, I can't even think straight. I thought when I finally told her the truth about me that she'd turn away, run as fast as she could in the other direction and never speak to me again. I couldn't believe it when she held me and told me it didn't matter. That she loved me no matter what.

"Even though I love her, I don't understand how she could possibly love me knowing all that, knowing what those people did to me. And as if that weren't already bad enough, now there's Justin and the party and all those guys. I can't forgive myself for letting that happen. How can she forgive it? It's too much to ask.

"And when I'm not worried about that, I worry that if I do let her in, let my guard down and allow myself to love her that something terrible will happen. That she'll die like my parents and the Spencers or one day she'll realize she made a mistake and leave me. Then what will I do? How could I go on?

"I keep thinking about Kristian. After my parents died, he was the only one who was ever kind to me, who ever gave a damn about me. When he heard what my life had been like the years before I met him, he was so upset. He said he wanted to make up for all the things I'd missed, so he took me to baseball games and to movies and to Disneyland. We had so much fun together. He said he loved me and never wanted to hurt me, he just wanted me to be happy. I started to let myself trust him and believe in him. Then, a couple of days before he was supposed to give me back to Mike, he told me he wasn't going to do it. I was so happy. I thought he meant he was going to take me with him, that he was going to keep on taking care of me and loving me and I'd never have to be scared or hurt or lonely again.

"When he told me what he was really planning, that he was going to leave me in the food court and call the police to come get me, I cried for hours. I was so afraid they'd send me back here, I'd be put into a foster home again and all the bad things that happened with Mike would happen all over again. I even begged him not to leave me. But he said he had a family back home and there was no way he could take me back there. That they'd never understand, they'd never forgive him. So he took me to the mall, bought me a bunch of clothes and some games and books to keep me occupied til the police got there, settled me at a table in the food court and just walked away.

"I was so angry with him. It took me a long time to understand the risk he took doing all that for me. Mike might have come after him for not giving me back, the police or some nosy bystander might have seen us in the mall and gotten suspicious because I was so upset. So many things could have gone wrong and he could have gotten arrested and lost his family for good. He took so many chances to save me and I was such an ungrateful jerk about it.

"I just don't know what to think or believe any more, Elliot. Dr. Wilcox keeps telling me Kristian was just as bad as Mike and the others, that he was a selfish bastard who didn't really love me. But if putting himself on the line for me like that wasn't love, what is? If I'm so wrong about that, how can I ever be sure of anyone else?"

"I can't pretend to understand what it was like for you when you were with Kristian, David. But I do know this. He said he never wanted to hurt you, but that didn't stop him from forcing himself on you every night, did it?"

The young man cast his eyes downward in embarrassment as Stabler continued, "Didn't that hurt you? And I'll bet the more fun the days were and the kinder he was to you and the more he said he loved you and didn't want to hurt you, the more you tried to pretend it didn't hurt when he shoved himself inside you every night. The more you pretended it was okay."

Another tear slid down David's cheek at the memory and he nodded reluctantly.

"If he really loved you, David, he wouldn't have just said he didn't want to hurt you, he wouldn't have done it. Period. He would have taken you to the police from the beginning and not kept you until he was forced to either turn you back over to your kidnapper or set you free. That's what love is -- letting go of someone you love instead of hurting them to fulfill your own selfish needs."

"Then shouldn't I send Jess away, Elliot? Can I really take the chance that someday I'll hurt her? I don't know how to love somebody without it hurting. Every time I think about it, think about having sex, all I can remember is the pain, the pain of being held down while Mike pushed himself inside me, telling me the whole time how beautiful I was and how much he loved me, everything he had to go through and to give up just to have me to himself. Then when I got older and he didn't want me any more, him telling me I was nothing and no one would ever want me for anything but my body. Then giving me away to perfect strangers like I was just some sex toy to be passed around and played with til they got bored.

"I close my eyes and have flashes of motel rooms, the backseats of cars, department store bathrooms, even the alley behind a bar one time -- a string of men using their bodies to hold me against beds, the seats of cars, bathroom stalls, walls. I can hear them grunting and moaning and all there is inside me is pain -- not just from the place where they're pushing inside me, but it aches all over from the top of my head to the tips of my fingers and toes. Everything just aches. And I don't know how to make it stop."

"David, I know it hurts, but you've taken the most important step. You've asked for help. Dr. Huang is helping you find a therapist who specializes in dealing with the type of abuse you suffered. You're not the only one who has ever gone through this. I've seen other abused kids who got help and were able to go on to lead pretty normal lives. To have wives and children and families, and to be happy despite everything they went through.

"What happened to you is never going to go away. You'll never forget it entirely. It will always be a part of who you are. But it wasn't your fault and it doesn't have to define you. It doesn't have to change who you are. That's your choice.

"And understand this, David. Choosing to hide from life instead of living it is your choice too, it's not something anyone else is making you do. And if you make that choice instead of fighting to have a real life for yourself, whether it's with Jessica or not, you're betraying your parents and letting the monsters win -- all those people who hurt you -- you're letting them win. Because that's what they want. They want that power over you, they want what they do to change who you are and to affect your life that completely. Don't let them have that power over you, David. Show them you're stronger than that. Show them you're the one with the power, not them."

"I want to try Elliot. I really do. I try to imagine my life without Jess in it, and I just can't. But I don't want to ever hurt her either."

"David, the one thing you really have to stop doing is treating Jessica like she's some delicate flower that's so easily crushed. She's a smart girl and she understands what she's getting into being with you. And she's a whole lot tougher than she looks. She knows it's not going to be easy for either of you and she's made the choice to try to make it work. She loves you, David. And you love her. If you just hold on to that, remember that, together you can make it through anything."

"Do you really think so?"

"I know so. At least that's the way it was for Kathy and me for a long, long time. I don't know how I let things get so screwed up between us."

"Isn't there anything you can do about it?"

Stabler leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. "I don't know. I've been thinking about that a lot lately. I don't know if it's too late to fix it or not. I know I want to. I just don't know if she'd be willing to try again at this point. But I know there are things I need to fix about myself before I can even ask her to try.

"When we were interviewing people trying to figure out what had happened at the party, we spoke to your classics teacher. He said something I keep coming back to in my head. He said most people aren't either all good or all evil, but somewhere along the scale between the two. I've always been a black and white kind of guy - seeing things as either one or the other.

"I think that's why I had so much trouble dealing with Justin. Olivia and George Huang kept saying they thought he'd been abused, but I wasn't willing to see that. All I wanted to see was the abuser. And I wanted to nail him to the wall because of it. Maybe he pushed all my buttons the way he did because I was seeing myself in him. Seeing the guy who was completely out of control and throwing his life down the toilet. I don't know.

"I can tell you one thing though. If I'd been the one who shot him instead of Olivia, I don't think I'd be sitting here right now. That would have been the last straw that pushed me over the edge. Because there were so many times while we were dealing with him that I thought how much easier it would be if I could just pull out my gun and put a bullet right through his head. Knowing I was so cavalier about the thought of doing just that scares the hell out of me.

"So all I can do for now is keep going to my therapist to try and work this shit out. Then maybe some day soon I'll be able to let go of that big ball of anger in the pit of my stomach and accept that I'm just a normal human being with flaws and weaknesses just like everybody else, and that's okay -- that a little gray in my life isn't necessarily a bad thing. And then maybe I can go back to Kathy and show her that I've made the effort to change, to be the man, the husband, the father she and the kids need me to be. Then it'll be up to her whether she's willing to take another chance on me."

"She'd be stupid not to."

"I like to think so, but we'll see."

"Elliot."

"Yeah."

"It's been really great talking with you like this."

"Yeah? You too."

"Does that mean you're not upset with me anymore?"

"I was never really upset with you in the first place, David. I was upset with me. With the stupid choices I've been making and the way I've been screwing up my life. What you said made me look long and hard at what I was doing and how much of it is my own damn fault, and that can be a scary thing to face."

"Does that mean we can be friends now?" the young man asked hesitantly.

Stabler flashed him an easy smile. "We're already friends, David, or I wouldn't be here."

* * *

Benson and Stabler were at their desks the following morning when Captain Donald Cragen came barreling out of his office.

"So you saw David Gallagher last night. Give me a report. How's he doing? How's Jessica? And where is he on the assault? Is he planning to file charges against the other guys? I'd like to be able to move this one to the 'closed' column sometime soon."

"There's not really anything left for us to do, Captain," Benson responded. "David's out of the hospital and settled back at his apartment with Jessica. It's still going to take some time, but it looks like he's well on the road to recovery. Jessica can't help but worry a little, but she's glad to have him home. And the two of them seem to be adjusting well to living together. They're both taking a leave of absence from Elmhurst until next fall while David recovers and they make some decisions about what to do with the rest of their lives.

"As far as the assault investigation goes, we know from everything we found at the frat house that Justin orchestrated the entire thing; with him dead there's no way to know who else was involved, if anyone. Once we found Elliot's suit in the hotel room, we realized Justin got David's cellphone number from a note Elliot left in his pocket, but we never figured out who made the phone call pretending to be the police dispatcher and we probably never will. He could have hired a homeless guy right off the street for all we know. The frat boys are all toeing the 'consensual sex among adults' party line and they all say they knew they were being filmed. We don't have any proof that any of them knew that David's participation in the orgy wasn't consensual or that they were involved in any way in the distribution of the video.

"Now that Justin's dead and no longer a threat, David doesn't want to pursue it any longer. He just wants to get on with his life. Without his cooperation, the most we can get on any of the other guys is underage drinking and it's up to Casey whether that's worth her time."

"So they get away with it?"

"Not necessarily," Stabler jumped in. "The college has a little more leeway to act than we do. The ringleaders, Gregg Peterson and Peter Bishop, have been officially expelled from Elmhurst. The expulsion is noted on their transcripts so they'll have some fancy explaining to do to any other colleges they try to apply to. After some wrangling among the lawyers, Michael Jensen and the others were allowed to transfer to other schools with a notation that disciplinary action was pending against them on their transcripts."

"And I should be happy that's the best we could do?" Cragen asked irritably.

"Sometimes we've got to take what we can get, Captain, and hope it's enough," Benson said with a shrug. "Maybe realizing what really happened to David, that they were actually a part of doing it to him, will put a big enough scare into some of those guys to get them to clean up their act."

"Yeah, right. And I'll be in my office looking for the flying pigs outside my window," Cragen snorted as he turned and strode away.

"Wait a second, Captain," Det. John Munch barked as he strode across the SVU bullpen toward Benson and Stabler's desks. "You're going to want to hear this too."

Cragen halted in the doorway to his office, gave Munch a questioning look and, noting the solemn expression on the detective's face, immediately drifted back to Stabler's desk to meet him.

"I was cleaning up some of the paperwork on the Graves case when this came in. It seems Justin has been a very naughty boy the last couple of years." He handed copies of a printout to Cragen, Stabler and Benson and stood there looking grimly at them as they examined it.

"Justin's fingerprints were found at the scene of another murder -- two years ago in Texas?" Cragen asked incredulously as he scanned the sheet.

"Since his fingerprints weren't in the system back then," Munch responded, "there was no way the Texas cops could identify him until we put them in and ran our national search."

"Jesus," Cragen spat out as he continued to read the report. "Do we have any idea who this Mark Daniels is and why Justin not only wanted him dead, but chose to cut off that particular piece of his anatomy?"

"Oh yeah," Benson replied heavily. "His real name's Mike Delaney. He's the one who kidnapped David."

"I wish I could say I was shocked or even a little surprised," Stabler broke in with a deep sigh, "but I'm not. After he got away with killing his father, he developed a taste for it. It was the ultimate power trip. Going after David's abuser would have been the next logical step to him. And I have to say that, even with the mutilation, I won't be losing any sleep over this one. After the hell Delaney put David through for five years, he got exactly what he deserved. I just hope knowing he's gone will give David some peace of mind."

Munch's face remained cold and stoic. "Maybe you'll feel differently about this one," he said passing around another sheet. "The print at the scene was only a partial and it's only a four point match, but considering who the victims are . . . ."

"Christ in Heaven," Stabler murmured as he scanned the page quickly before turning dark, haunted eyes to the room. "How am I ever going to tell him this? It'll kill him."

Benson's face had paled as she scanned her copy of the report, but she turned eyes seething with fury to her partner. "You're not," she said with determination. "He doesn't need to know this, Elliot. All it will do is cause him more pain. You know he'll feel responsible. There was an investigation and their deaths were officially ruled an accident. Justin's dead now and beyond our ability to punish. There's no way to prove anything, so its's pointless to reopen the case when all it's going to do is cause more pain."

"He feels sorry for Justin, Olivia. How can I let him go on feeling sorry for Justin after he did this."

"Did what?" Cragen burst in. "Who are these people -- Bill and Marie Spencer?"

"David's second set of foster parents," Stabler responded wearily. "The ones who took him in when he was brought back to New York. From everything I've heard about them, they were good people. It took a long time for David to learn to trust them, but eventually he came to love them, and they were in the process of adopting him when they were killed. The brakes on their car supposedly failed and they were hit broadside by a tractor trailer when the car went through a red light."

"The report says the partial was found on a hubcap that flew off during the crash. And it's only a four point match," Cragen said reasonably. "It could have been put there by some mechanic during their last maintenance visit for all we know."

"Yeah, and if I believed that, Captain, I'd come watch those flying pigs with you," Stabler replied woodenly.

The four of them stared at each other uncomfortably for a few more moments, but since there was nothing left to say, Munch and Cragen finally drifted away to return to their own desks.

Stabler exchanged troubled glances with his partner and tried to refocus his mind on the work at hand. But, instead, it continued to stubbornly wander to the cellphone he had left sitting out on his desk. His heart and mind both knew what he needed to soothe his battered soul after the tragic events of the last few weeks and the even more unsettling discoveries of the last few minutes, but he had stubbornly resisted the entreaties of both so far.

It was the memory of his conversation with David the night before and the knowledge that David would be willing to give up just about anything to have just a few of the precious moments he was wasting to spend with all of those he'd loved and lost that made the decision for him. Without another thought, he picked up the cellphone and punched a speed dial number.

Benson was surprised when she heard the first words of the conversation, but a small, relieved smile lit her face as she picked up some files from her desk and walked over to consult with Munch at his desk to give her partner some semblance of privacy.

"Hi Kath, it's Elliot. I just called to see how you and the kids are doing." . . . "That's great. Listen, we just wrapped up a really rough case and I'm going to take a couple of days off. I was wondering if it would be okay to come up for a visit. I miss the kids. I - I miss all of you. I know this is going to sound crazy, but I'd like to take you out on a date. Get a chance to know each other again. No pressure, no promises, no commitments B just a date. We can do whatever you want B dinner, movie, just sit and talk if that's what you want. I even promise to do some of the talking." . . . "No, there won't be any taboo subjects. We can talk about anything you want. ". . . . "No, I don't want you to change your plans. Whatever is convenient for you. I know you worked around my lousy schedule for years, I don't expect you to do that any more.". . . .

A soft, relieved smile crossed Stabler's face. "Saturday? Saturday would be great. Thanks, Kath. Tell the kids I love them, okay. See you Saturday."

THE END


End file.
